


My 11th high school

by Mae (mae1505)



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Back to Westerburg High, Blaming yourself, Blood and Violence, Child Abandonment, Drinking, Drugs, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Falling in Love (again), Ghost Heather Chandler, Hospitalization, JD survives the bomb, Murder, Overdosing, Smoking, Suicide Attempt, Veronica goes off the rails, Violence, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2019-11-06 02:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17931191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae1505/pseuds/Mae
Summary: JD survived the bomb blast -Well, if there's no bomb blast, of course you're gonna survive.When Veronica watched JD's homemade bomb fail, and watched him leave Westerburg, she never thought that he would ever come back into her life again. She's been happy for two years, working in a coffee shop and spending the weekends with Heather (M) and Martha.But after JD is abandoned by his father, he goes back to the only place where he ever felt at home...





	1. First Day Of Senior Year (again)

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! So I've been reading tons of JD survives fics and then last night I was like, hey, you should write one of those!
> 
> Then this fic literally came to me in a dream. I don't mean that the dream was the fic, I literally mean that the dream was somebody (I really don't know who) just telling me the idea for the fic.
> 
> So. If you don't like it, you can blame the person in my dream.
> 
> Enjoy...

**J.D.**

So here I was. First day of senior year (again) at a new high school. My _twelfth_ high school.

Never thought I’d get to say that number. When I stood on the lawn of Westerburg High School, clutching a bomb to my chest, I thought that was my end.

_I’ve been through ten high schools and this one will finally end me._

But if there’s no bomb blast, what are you meant to die from?

Yeah, I shouldn’t really been surprised. It was me that Veronica shot, but the bullet hit the bomb too. And who even knows if the fucking thing would have worked anyway…

I don’t think about Westerburg. What ( _who_ ) I left behind.

Here we are. Even though I’m eighteen and long past high school, considering we’ve practically been homeless for a year, I was enrolled at St. Madison's high school anyway.

When I walk through the front doors, I’m almost taken aback.

Because it’s Westerburg, well it’s not, but the people are the same.

The three head bitches, I quickly learn, are Hailee, Hannah, and Heather.

Yeah. Fucking Heather.

I mean, there’s no yellow scrunchie, but she’s practically the same person.

Is the world _trying_ to drive me to suicide?

 

**Veronica**

It’s all so normal.

So _right_.

I work in a coffee shop. I hang out with Martha and Heather, and surprisingly I’m happy.

I don't want to go off to college anymore. I'm happy to just be here. 

Until somebody comes in wearing a trench coat and then I’m drowning in floods of memories…

_Heather choking on the drain cleaner…_

_Ram definitely not being just unconscious…_

_Kurt’s screams…_

_Martha lying on the hospital bed…_

_JD’s bloodstained hands clutching my face…_

_The bullet that_ **_I_ ** _shot ripping through his body…_

_His face as he clutched the bomb to his chest…_

The bomb that never went off.

And then he left. Who knew where JD was now? And do I care?

That’s a question impossible to answer…

But what would I do if he came back?

Thank fucking god he hasn’t.

 

**J.D**

No exceptions to my rule this time. I don’t learn the names, don’t bother with faces. When everyone brands me as the ‘no name kid’, like they do everywhere, I don’t bother correcting them.

St. Madison's is like any other high school, I tell myself.

Well I stand corrected.

Today, the H’s (as they’re known) indoctrinated some girl named Megan into their clique.

Today, two jocks harassed some outsider until he shot two blanks at them.

And no, that person was _not_ me.

But it could fucking well have been.

So I’m not staying there. I’ll get a job, somehow, anything to stop living senior year again and again.

I throw open the door. I don’t bother telling him I’m home (over the last year we’ve avoided speaking to each other so much that now we’re practically strangers living in the same house, like we weren’t anyway). But I stop short when I don’t nearly crash into the stack of boxes in the hallway.

There _are_ no boxes in the hallway.

No duffel coat thrown over the chair.

No passed-out man lying on the coach (he turned to drowning himself in booze and to be honest I can’t blame him. We were gifted this house by my newly-deceased aunt, and no, I didn’t kill her.)

I throw open the door to our shared room (not that he sleeps there) but there's no bags, no boxes except the black rucksack I randomly stole last year.

 

That **_bastard_ **.


	2. I'm Your Amazing Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of all the people to pick up JD as he walked with no destination in mind, did it have to be Heather Duke?
> 
> And did she have to drop him back in Westerburg?
> 
> Right in front of Veronica?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoooo so this chapter was honestly so fun to write because I could make Heather Duke into a total madman and it's great. 
> 
> Enjoy...

**J.D.**

 

He’s gone. That dick has fucking left me.

 _Again_. He’s left me again.

He did it once, a couple months ago. I was sleeping on a park bench for a few nights until he stumbled out of the fog drunk and kicked out of a hostel two miles from where he left me.

And I stayed with him. Because, well, I don’t even fucking know why. Maybe I feel obliged to. Maybe it’s memories of good times.

Maybe I just have nowhere else to go…

But I get the sense he isn’t coming back this time. Can’t blame the bitch, it’s less to pay for. It’s also obviously why he enrolled me at Madison’s, he couldn’t give me a good reason and I couldn’t be bothered to argue anyway…

_“You’re going to school tomorrow.”_

_“Why the fuck would I go back to school.”_

_“Why not?”_

Anyway, it was my half-arsed logic that’s got me here, walking on a dirty road to god-knows-where, sticking out my thumb when any car goes past even though I know nobody in their right mind would pick some teenager walking alone in a black trench coat at seven in the morning.

I’ve been doing this all night, just moving without a destination in mind. There’s only one place I’m avoiding, for obvious reasons.

But I doubt I’ll end up there…

I would kill for a slushie, but there hasn’t been a 7-11 for miles and I’m not in the mood to try my hand at thievery anyway. I’ve only ever mastered one crime, and I’m never trying that again.

I’m sure, even though only one person knows what I did, that most would just brand me as a complete psychopath without a second thought.

But I’m not. I didn’t show it, but I never enjoyed the killing…

I did it all for Veronica.

Maybe I’m pretty fucked up, but we all are if you dig deep enough. Or somebody else digs deep enough…

Veronica…

 

_You’re planning your future, Veronica Sawyer…_

_Love this dead girl walking…_

_You are the only thing that’s right about this broken world…_

_Our love is God…_

_I worship you, I’d trade my life for yours…_

 

The shittiest part is I know I still would.

I didn’t let myself think about Veronica. Let myself miss her, because -

There’s a car coming up the road. I stick my thumb out and to my surprise, it grinds to a halt. A black jeep, it seems familiar, bit considering the amount of people who must have a black jeep I don’t think about it. The driver door opens and whoever’s in the car walks round, coming to the front of -

Red blazer.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Red scrunchie round her wrist.                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Red heels.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr No-Name Kid. Long time no see baby,” Heather Duke smirks and leans on the car bonnet, pushing her tongue up against her teeth.

Of all the people in the world, I’m picked up by **_Heather Fucking Duke._ **

 

**Heather Duke**

 

So I was just driving, right, and -

No that sounds stupid. Childish. Cliche.

I was heading down the road  -

Ok now I sound like a fucking poet. Why can’t I ever think of the right thing to say?

You could have done it. God, you always knew the right thing to say. To wear. To do. You could have done this. Heather Chandler, the megabitch and demon queen of high school. Red, always red.

Oh fuck it. I stop trying to compose a torture speech and look over at the boy, man really at this point, slouched in the passenger seat next to me. I’m not a charitable person, like, I’m a bitch and proud of it, so I would never normally pick up a hitchhiker. But damn…

When did Veronica’s freak boyfriend get so hot?

Ok, sorry Heather, I know that was kinda gross, sorry. But whatever, I don’t need your approval so fuck you.

“Thinking about Veronica?” I jeer at JD (Was that his name?). He sort-of does this weird blink-jolt thing that people always do when they’re shocked you’re speaking to them, you know, I would always do it before you helped me Heather. Then sneers, at _me_ , and rolls his eyes.

He’s not the only one thinking about Veronica. God, I wish you could write stuff down whilst driving, I would have the perfect thing to say to her then.

Can you see it Heather? I can, god you’d be proud. I’d be cold as fucking stone…

 

 _The red blazer flashing through the doors, everybody looking at me, no green now, always red only red I’m your queen now. Veronica would stop serving coffee and I’d watch her face slowly fall into fear as I ripped her apart with words just like you but only_ **_better_ ** _, made her feel terror knowing that freakshow was back in town, ready to -_

 

“Watch the road.” JD sniggers, whoops I did it again, Heather it’s your fault. How to be popular rule number ten, always blame somebody else for your mistakes.

I jerk the jeep back onto the road, not that there’s much of a road anyway, and decide if I can’t torture Veronica maybe I can torment JD.

“You didn’t answer my question jackass, thinking of Veronica?”

“Why would I bother wasting my breath on you, you’re just Chandler but _lesser_.” 

Then he sighs. “How is she?”

Oh shit, what do I say to that Heather?

“She’s still the same old whiney megabitch you left behind. Thinking of going to visit?” I place my blood-red nails on his forearm and he flinches. “I can drop you off.”

I smile the way you never let me Heather, and hey look at that I made someone hurt! Haven’t done that in a while. Kinda missed it.

“No. No Duke, just drop me anywhere. Not Westerburg.” And normally I would comply darling, but I did so want to see Veronica hurt, like she made me hurt.

"Don't you, like, have a dad or something?" See Heather, you poke and prod with no barriers. And it worked, see that bitch! His eyes narrow, just for a second.

"Not any more."

"Oh no, did your big mean daddy abandon you? Poor little baby..."

"Just fuck off Heather." He leans against the window, turned away from me, and I start to think...

Revenge is a dish best served cold eh? Or in this case, no, I was never the one for the wordplay. That was you or Heather, hey, I could drop in and see how she’s doing, I do kind of miss her, she was loyal, honest, chubby, everything a queen could want in a loyal sidekick.

Oh who am I kidding? I would love us to be friends again, to be the Heathers again, except you wouldn’t be invited to the party because I hate your fucking guts.

This is getting good now…

 

**Veronica**

 

“Sawyer! Your break’s over, get your ass back in here.” My 50-year-old manager yells through the closing doors. I heave a sigh, say goodbye to Heather and Martha, and get back to my counter.

Everything falls into a blur when I’m working, hours passing like days but also like seconds. I serve drinks, count change, and never get a moment to think.

It’s better that way.

Eventually, the store closes, and I’m getting out my key so I can lock up when a black jeep stops in the road before me.

I’ve seen that jeep before - wait.

That’s Heather Duke’s car.

What the fuck is she -

Then every muscle in my body freezes, my heart clenching and unclenching like it’s about to explode, and I’m pretty sure I fall back against the wall.

Dirty black trench coat…

Ruffled black hair…

 **_JD_.**He’s back.

I can’t hear what he says, he only leans on the window, probably asking where the fuck he just got dropped, because why would he ever come back here?

I can’t hear what he says, but I can hear Heather’s response, and the cruel, mocking tones of her voice snap me back into reality…

“Just look behind you darling…”

He stiffens, and he knows where he is now.

Our eyes meet.

Again.

I throw open the doors (thank god I didn’t lock them) and slam down the blinds, curling up into a ball against the cool metal frame.

He’s back.

Why is he back.

He can’t be back.

Why can’t I ever escape from high school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have like no clue when Chapter 3 will be out because apparently I have a busy weekend ahead of me so FUN except not really...
> 
> See you soon  
> xoxo


	3. All I Can Trust Is This Concrete Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD's living in his old house and has found himself a job at 7-11, but when he tries to talk to Veronica he's confronted by a furious Heather McNamara. And as if that wasn't enough torture for Veronica, Heather Duke asks for forgiveness, but based on the mood J.D. just put her in, Heather M's not in the forgiving mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! So sorry I haven't published for a couple days exams are stressing me out lol. Anyway I'm glad this chapter gave me an excuse to write as Heather M because that bitch is awesome and I wanna do her justice. Enjoy...

**J.D.**

 

You know how in movies there’s always that really slow walk in the rain when everything goes wrong? Hair stuck to their head, drenched clothes, walking aimlessly?

This is my walk in the rain.

I don’t even have the effort within me to _insult_ Heather, let alone punch her. I knew where I was when the cruel, mocking words left her mouth, but to add insult to injury, she was there.

 _Veronica_. Seeing her, it really did feel like the bomb had exploded and my fragile body had broken in two. Just the look in her eyes hollowed me out, so thank you very much Heather for ripping open old wounds.

 _Veronica_.

I never suspected the sight of her would hurt me so much.

I know she still hasn’t forgiven me, well who could blame her?

 

_“I just killed my best friend.”_

_“Or worst enemy.”_

_“Same difference.”_

 

I don’t know where I’m going until I end up standing in front of my old house. We never sold it, actually, I have no clue what we did, everything happened too fast and I just wanted to leave.

But the shithole looks empty. Abandoned.

How fitting that an empty house should house an empty person...

 

* * *

 

 

“And I should hire you because?” The rheumy-eyed 7-11 manager is most definitely high on something, but he’s still sober enough to be suspicious of a random kid walking into his store asking for a job. Great.

There’s nowhere else in this town I would ever get a job at, plus they’d never hire me anyway.

“Because I need money. Because I’m a good worker. Because I’m that kid who came in here every single fucking day for a slushie about a year ago. Take your pick.” Jesus christ, just hire me. It’s not like this is a formal interview, we’re conducting it over the crisps aisle for god’s sake.

“Fine, you’re on the job. Work this shift.” He walks away and I kid you not he literally grabs a needle from the counter, apparently you’ve gotta be careful where you put your hands in this place.

This is gonna be the best way to make money. The till isn’t locked, so if I need some cash or the bitch forgets to pay me then I’ll take what I can get.

Besides, now I can steal slushies.

 

* * *

 

I work for a couple of hours, mindlessly serving people whilst inflicting brain freeze after brain freeze on myself.

But then the clock chimes midday and the door slides open. I drop my cup and the blue liquid oozes across the counter.

 _Veronica_. She doesn’t see me at first, but then she turns to the slushie machine and our eyes meet again.

I’m honestly taken aback when she walks to the counter. “You missed a spot.” She gestures at the spill with a flat voice I’ve never heard her use before.

I roll my eyes and grab a rag from under the counter, pushing a plastic cup into her outstretched hand. She slides over some coins then grabs her cup and leaves.

When she reaches the door, I call out “Veronica?”

She turns. We hold each other’s gaze for a moment too long. Veronica opens her mouth to speak but suddenly yellow nails close over her wrist.

Heather McNamara.

I didn’t even see her come in.

 

**Heather McNamara**

 

I was just walking past the petrol station when I saw Veronica frozen in the middle of the linoleum aisles. So I pushed open the door -

And I was not expecting to see her staring at JD I didn’t even know he was back. I mean, I would have questioned why she was at the 7-11 if I didn’t already know she went for a slushie every sunday.

But JD? Veronica never told me and Martha what happened, only they broke up when she pulled the fake suicide act and he left, which evidently wasn’t a permanent move.

So I closed my hand around her wrist (and at that moment I was suddenly aware I had yellow nails, a yellow scrunchie holding my blonde hair in a loose bun and yellow heels, it’s hard to break habits) and that made both of them jump.

“Veronica?” Her mouth closes. I turn to the boy behind the counter, he’s actually grown kinda handsome in this year, more of a rugged look, I can see what Veronica saw in him…

But that doesn’t mean I’m ever gonna let him hurt her again.

“Veronica?” I gently shake her arm. “Are you ok?” She blinks a couple of times, seeming to snap out of a daze.

“Yeah, Heather, I’m, I’m fine. Let’s go.” She raises the straw to her mouth and slurps, but then JD moves from behind the counter and approaches us. My eyes narrow.

“Veronica, please, I just, I want to talk.” His voice is soft and if I know Veronica he’s just got through to her, but I’m not standing for this.

I am _not_ letting my best friend get hurt again by this douchebag, even if I have no clue what he did to her.

So I step between them.

“You wanna leave her alone now Jason Dean?”

“I just want to talk to her Heather.” He raises his palms in an I-surrender gesture.

“And if you think I’m going to let you talk to the girl whose heart you broke you’ve got another thing coming. Leave Veronica alone J.D. because she’s done with you.”

He sighs. “ _Please_ Heather.” But I’m not swayed.

“Now I don’t know what you did to Veronica, but I do know that I was the one who provided a shoulder to cry on whilst you were god-knows-where. So stay the hell away from my girl and get the fuck out of town Jason Dean, we’re done with you.” I slip my arm through Veronica’s and lead her through the plastic door.

“Did he bother you?” I turn to her sharply as soon as we get to the main road. She shakes her head distractedly. “No Heather, _no_ , I’m fine.”

We turn to walk back down the road, I’ll take her to my house and we can watch a shitty sci-fi together, but then I hear heels clicking behind us, so I turn.

The red scrunchie shines out from her brown hair. The red blazer glows against her pale skin. Red boots scrape on black tarmac.

Apparently I’m not the only one who has habits.

“Heather.” Heather Duke smiles at us. “And Veronica, how are you?”

I stare passively. She looks up the road, sees the 7-11 behind us, and something flashes in her eyes. “Oh, have you just seen Jace? I dropped him here yesterday, Veronica saw us didn’t you?”

I’m still rendered speechless by Heather’s belief that she rules over us. First of all, Jace? Oh honey, give it up. And second, Veronica knew he was back?

Why didn’t she tell me?

“Heather, can you just, like, go away please. Back to wherever you were. I’m not in the mood.” Veronica’s voice shocks me, but I nod along anyway and smile at Heather. We turn away and walk, but she grabs my arm and pulls me from Veronica’s grip.

“Heather, darling, please. We were friends, you and I, and I don’t like the way we left things. I know we ended high school on the wrong foot -”

“No kidding Heather.”

“But I’d like to make it up with you. How about I buy you a drink some time, unless you’d rather avoid alcohol.” I stare at her, taking in what she just said, hang on, did that _bitch_ even try with me? Oh Heather sweetie, it is _on_.

I take my arm out from under Veronica’s and pull the yellow scrunchie out of my hair. It sits in the palm of my hand for a moment before I toss it into the path of some passing car. Heather flinches but I don’t care, I’m not yellow anymore, I’m just me.

“Heather.” I try to keep my anger in check. “I don’t want to get a drink with you, in fact, I don’t even want to speak with you at all, ever, so just pull a Chandler and fuck right off out of my life please.” She opens her mouth but I’m not done. “This is isn’t high school anymore, and you don’t want a friend, you want an entourage. Well we’re big girls Heather dear,” I reach forward and pull a fake red nail off of her index finger. Her eyes go wide. “You just filled her her fucking shoes, I’ll never bow to the queen of a long-gone high school.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya liked it! I was writing this whilst watching Law&Order obsessively so forgive me if there's any stupid mistakes and lemme know below. 
> 
> See ya next time!  
> xoxo


	4. Shut Up Heather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather Duke is alone, with no kingdom to rule over and no friends to call her own. Heather Chandler was respected after her death, she was remembered, loved, and that's all Duke wants...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter, whilst not actually showing it, contains an attempted suicide through overdose. It's not very graphic or all of that, but it's in there and I felt I should warn you, and if you don't want to read this chapter, you won't miss anything major from the story because the next chapter will catch you up xx.

**Heather Duke**

 

How very _dare_ that bitch just reject my offer? Doesn’t she remember anything from high school, oh you may have fooled the world McNamara but you can’t hide anything from me, you’re still the same depressed loner you’ve always been.

You’re going to die alone Heather, just like you did Heather, I was the only one with guts out of all of us, green, well, I’m not green anymore.

My red nails have cut into my palm. I unclench my fist, I’ve been sitting on my bed for three hours, so I fall black against the red pillow, looking up at my red light that shines out on my red ceiling and red walls. I’m lying on a red duvet, with red clothes in - ok so yeah my room is red Heather don’t start with me.

You’d say I was trying to prove something. You’d say I was just trying to be a copycat pussy who can’t make anything for herself.

But why would I bother trying to write my own song when there’s a beautiful pair of shoes just waiting to be filled.

So thank you Heather darling, you made it all very easy for me. And red so does suit me better than green.

Red is _stronger_. You weren’t strong enough to wield that power Heather, I mean, come on, that suicide note? The hell was that?

A terrified girl who clings to her pillow and cries? Yeah right, I’ll give you this Heather, you were stronger than that. And at first, the note did bug me, it just didn’t _sound_ like you, at all.

But obviously we ‘couldn’t see past your rockstar mystique.’ Ha.

And then come on, look at Heather, yellow and childish, she would be _nothing_ without us, how could she turn me down?

I just wanted a friend…

But now I guess I have to throw you to the sharks. It’s nothing personal my dear, and it will be easy, because all I’ll have to do is push you over the edge, one tiny shove at a time.

And unlike _you_ Heather, I have the strength to do it…

I don’t know why you kept her around. I guess she was a good sidekick, but she was too weak. It’s a remarkable feat that we even let her in…

Ah well. I don’t care about you anymore. I’ll do this my way.

But I can almost see you there, sitting on the edge of my bed, maybe you are really there..

“Hello.” I call out. You turn towards me.

“I was wondering when you would begin to notice me.”

“Heather.” My voice is hard, cold, “Get out of my head.”

“Who says I’m on your head? I’ve got to entertain myself somehow, god, Heather, my afterlife is _so_ boring. If I have to sing kumbaya one more time…”

I stand, and so does she. We walk in unison over to the mirror, but she isn’t in there beside me. “See!” I raise my finger to her “You’re not here, now go away.”

“So you’re planning to take revenge on Heather.” She sits back at the edge of my bed. “You might not want to burn your bridges whilst you’re standing on an island darling.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Who will you have left to rule over?” And just like that, she’s gone. I fall back onto my bed and grab the pillow, hugging it closer to my chest.

_“Heather, my love, there’s a new sheriff in town.”_

_“You just filled her fucking shoes, I’ll never bow to the queen of a long-gone high school”_

That was what Heather had said earlier. The fucking bitch…

But she was right. Heather Chandler was right. Veronica was right. They were _all_ right.

High school was over. Nobody cared if they looked at me funny anymore, because what could I do to them?

High school was over…

Nobody cared about _me_ anymore. Nobody bowed to me, pledged allegiance to me, the most I got was a glance from some loser geek who would always and forever be a pussy.

But that was _it_.

“You’re not even that pretty, if I’m honest.” Heather sat cross-legged in front of me, like we were twelve again. “More average,” She continued, “Like, you would never outshine me.”

I frown. She vanishes. But the frown wasn’t to her…

“No no Heather come back! HEATHER!” I scream up at my ceiling and I think I can hear my parents below me, but fuck them, “Heather please!” I suddenly sob, which I wasn’t expecting or trying for, but I can’t stop myself.

Tears pour down my cheeks. “I’m all alone, please Heather, please!” My voice cracks, but the demon queen doesn’t answer my call.

I’m all alone…

Nobody knows me, likes me, notices me…

I want them to notice me! To respect me! To bow down again!

They respected you…

There’s a bottle of sleeping pills on my chest of drawers. Mum gave them to me a couple of years ago, but that was a dark time that passed quickly and I never took more than three.

They still remember you now. Still talk about you, heck, they still fear you, even though you’re as far away as can possibly be...

I reach for the bottle, red nails scratching as I pull off the lid...

Maybe I should just do what you did and join you in the glorious afterlife…

 

**Veronica**

 

“Oh, my god, I feel like a kid again.” Heather tipped back her head and threw a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I really needed this.”

We were camped out on Martha’s living room sofa, her parents out for week on a “well-deserved get away.” I was curled up in a blanket with Martha, Heather on the armchair opposite, and we were watching some old crime movie I wasn’t paying attention to.

I hadn’t been paying attention to anything today. I had only been thinking about J.D.…

“Veronica?” Martha’s voice broke through my thoughts. I focused on her, lying next to me chewing on a chocolate bar like a squirrel. “Do you want to change the movie? You haven’t really been -”

“No, no, I’m fine Martha, don’t worry.” I waved my hand at her, grabbing a square of chocolate. But Heather narrowed her eyes.

“Still thinking about JD huh?” I rolled my eyes at her.

“I can’t believe he’s back…” Martha’s voice normally gives me comfort, but now it just sounds childish and pathe -

What is it about JD that converts me back to what I was like a year ago, ready to turn on my best friend just to be friends with the Heathers?

We settle back into a comfortable silence only broken by the sound of somebody chewing. The movie comes to a close, and the credits are playing when the phone in the kitchen rings madly, making us all jump.

“Who would that be?” Heather heaves herself up and walks over, and I can’t help but notice she’s in yellow slippers…

“Hello?” Martha and I turn over the back of the sofa to look at her. She’s frowning in confusion, but then suddenly that gives way to fear and the phone slips from her fingers, bouncing on the wire and smacking against the wall.

“What is it?” We both jump up and Martha puts the phone to her ear.

“Heather?” I lightly tug on her arm. “Who was it.”

Heather swallows. Looks down at the floor. “That was Mr and Mrs Duke.” She raises her eyes to meet mine.

 

“Heather tried to overdose. She was hospitalized an hour ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now originally Veronica was going to read Heather's suicide note in this chapter, but I thought I should keep this one short and make it all about Heather. Just in case you weren't clear, she DOESN'T actually die, I have plans for her later. And to all those people who love Heather Duke and are very angry to see me treat her like this (to be honest I am one of those people), I'm very sorry, but I had to get her out of the way and to somewhere she couldn't move around and create annoying plot holes, so this way was frankly easier and did fit with the general outline. Also, I can't think of, like, anywhere else that I could put in suicide and it was a theme I wanted to discuss because, well, it's fucking Heathers guys. I'll see you for the next one...
> 
> Mae xoxo


	5. Far too damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather Duke pours out her heart in her suicide note, apologizing to all that she's hurt, but Veronica isn't buying it. 
> 
> And to her horror, Heather Chandler isn't buying it either...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So if you DID skip last chapter (though I don't think anybody has but idk) I can assure you that you didn't miss anything, because here just for you is a Heather Duke's suicide note..

**_Dear world,_ **

 

_I don’t really know what to say here. Maybe it’s because I never actually imagined this is something I would ever do…_

_So if you read this, as cliche as it sounds, I am obviously dead. Or at least, I hope I am, because otherwise this was just a fucking waste of time._

_You may be wondering what drove me to this. Or you might not be. But I know that at least my parents will worry, so this is for you and anybody who cared:_

_Do you remember Heather Chandler’s suicide note? I do. I still have a copy, and not because Miss fucking Fleming handed them out like invites to her birthday party._

_I have it for two reasons. First, contrary to what you may believe, Heather was my best friend. Sorry Heather, but based on our last conversation I can’t imagine you would argue with me. But second, she was right._

_I thought that I was the one who suffered. The one who bit her tongue until it bled and apologized for speaking out of turn after every word. The one who could do nothing right, the one who had to wear the right outfit every day, and I could never be red._

_But then suddenly my pole star choked and died, and then I was on top._

_At first, I was exhilarated. Finally, it was my time to shine. I would be the demon queen of high school._

_But because, normally at least, only one person gets to sit on the throne, nobody ever knows how alone you are…_

_So I did this for a lot of things. Heather, McNamara that is, was right. She called me ‘the queen of a long-gone high school.’_

_And I thought about that for a long long time today, and yes Heather my love, you were right. My kingdom is long gone, high school is over._

_Time to wake up._

_I’m sorry Heather Chandler. I’m sorry I never understood your pain. I’m sorry I hated you, sorry I resented you, and most of all I’m sorry that I was the shittiest best friend I could have been. You needed love, you needed somebody to say “I’m here for you Heather, I don’t want you to die. You don’t need to commit suicide.” But I never did that, I never supported you, and I am so sorry my darling friend._

_At least I get to see you again. Or, at least, I hope so._

_I’m sorry Heather McNamara. I’m sorry I was so cruel, so unloving, I was a bitch, no, I was worse than that, I wasn’t even human. I was truly the ‘demon queen of high school’ and I even tried to make you kill yourself. Well karma’s a bitch I guess. And I am so so so sorry for that Heather, and I wish we could have been friends. I wish I was your friend._

_But you are so much stronger than me. You’re a survivor my love, and keep fighting._

_I’m sorry Veronica Sawyer. I am so so sorry about what I, what Kurt, Ram and I, made you suffer. Perhaps this is our punishment. But still, it was cruel. And a lie. To anybody reading this, anything I said or that Kurt and Ram said, it was a lie. And this ties into my next apology as well, but I am sorry for what I did outside that coffee shop, or what I did on what I guess is the last day of my life._

_You didn’t deserve it. I hope you can find a way to be happy. Somehow._

_Now this one will probably shock you all, and only two people know what I’m talking about, unless she told anyone else. I’m sorry JD, or what I did, all that I did. I shouldn’t have done it, and being bitter was no excuse._

_I should’ve left you walking down that road. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I had._

_Now for my final apology. I’m sorry to everybody I hurt and bullied and bitched on and did all that shit to. I hate that there are so many of you, that there are too many of you to name. I am sorry to you all._

_Oh and to my parents, I am sorry. And I didn’t forget about you. I wanted to end saying sorry to you, to make it clear that you did nothing wrong. It’s not your fault, you raised me to be kind and good, except I could never be kind and good. So it’s not your fault._

_Goodbye all. Maybe I’ll see you in heaven, but I doubt that’s where I’m going._

 

* * *

 

**Veronica**

 

We went to the hospital that night. Her parents didn’t let me or Martha in, only Heather, I take it they assumed that they were still friends.

We’re sitting on the blue plastic chairs, and Heather walks out of the door in a bit of a daze. Martha and I stand up immediately.

“She’s still unconscious. The doctors say she’ll be fine, but if she hadn’t taken the pills one at a time, well..” She doesn’t need to finish.

“I can’t believe it, I mean, Heather just - “

“She left a note.” My head snaps up and I notice the laminate folder in Heathers hand. I snatch it from her fingers, drinking up the words she wrote with shaking hands.

Then I fall back onto the chair.

I wanted to know why, I _needed_ to understand why, what could possibly have led to her to try and take her own life?

But now I know.

And it was my fault.

Mine. JD's and I.

She did this because of Heather. Because of what she thought Heather said, what she thought Heather felt like.

Except she never felt like that.

We just, no, JD didn’t write that note, I did.

It’s my fault.

The whole night is dominated by those two little words eating away at my brain.

Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault.

They swim inside the tears that finally fall from my eyes. They scream in my ears on the drive home and I’m digging my nails into Heather’s car seats and I just. Can’t. Breathe.

I haven’t felt like this since, since, since that morning. The last morning Heather Chandler ever saw.

Because that nearly happened all over again.

Your fault.

“Stop.” I choke out. Martha and Heather both turn to look at me, curled up in the back seat biting my nails. “Please,” I continue, “Pull, pull over.”

“Are you alright Veronica?”

“Do you feel sick?”

“Does your head hurt?”

But all I hear is “It’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your fault.”

We’re still an hour away from Westerburg. Adam’s Hospital, where Heather is placed, is two and a half hours away by car.

We’re so far away from home, Heather is so far away from home...

Your fault.

I push open the door but stay in my seat, letting the night air cool my face. Martha and Heather watch me in concerned silence.

It’s not my fault.

She never actually said that the “suicide” note influenced her choices. It was a combination of many different -

“You can tell yourself that all you want darling, but it doesn’t change the truth.”

I feel the colour drain from my face. I turn in dread, but she’s not on the seat next to me. Frantic, I twist and turn, looking for her, no no she can’t be here, she can’t be -

Then I see her. Heather Chandler, wearing the same red clothes she died in, leaning on the side of the car. She smirks.

I slam the door.

“Veronica?” Heather’s eyes are wide in concern. But I shake my head and hold the door handle down with all my might.

“Just drive Heather, drive drive drive and keep driving.”

 

* * *

 

My bed used to comfort me, my bedroom was my place, the place I was safe. Then J.D. broke in, and he stole that safety for a while, along with the mocking voice of Heather Chandler, but they both left, and slowly, piece by piece, I rebuilt my safe place.

But now my eyes are wide, nails drawing blood from my palm, as Heather Chandler stands at the foot of my bed, wearing a red dress and red heels, something you’d wear to a party.

Or knowing Heather, something you’d wear to a funeral.

She sits on the bed and lies on her stomach, head almost touching my feet and propped on her elbows whilst she blinks her green eyes up at me.

“Did you miss me baby?”

I gulp, pretty sure that I’m shaking, I know my hands are. But I scramble as far away from her as I can, pushing up against the headboard with my knees to my chest.

Heather sits up, crosses her legs, and cocks her head at me.

“Are you afraid? Of what I’ll say to you? Oh bitch _please_ , I’m not about to say anything you’re not already thinking.” She chuckles, then smiles her evangelical smile at me.

“It’s your fault.”

“It’s not my fault.” I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, maybe if I close them for long enough, she’ll go away.

There’s a long period of silence. I tentatively open one eye…

Heather’s nose is a centimeter away from mine, looking my dead in the eyes.

I scream, and she once again throws back her head and laughs.

She laughs because she just scared me. Because that’s _funny_ to her.

“But all jokes aside slut, I’m as confused as you are?”

“Confused?” I blink. She rolls her eyes.

“Of course, I mean come on Veronica, for starters, do you REALLY think Heather ever believed that suicide note you wrote for me. I doubt it, because that thing was a fucking bore.” She yawns, and then stands up, beginning to pace around my bedroom.

“And then second, do _you_ believe her note? I know you were never red, but still, you must understand what her game is, please tell me you, oh my god Veronica, jesus fucking christ!” She walks round to the side of my bed and shakes my shoulder. I jump up, trying to get away from her.

“SHE’S COPYING ME! Fucking hell,” Heather rakes a hand through her loose blonde curls, “ Do you really believe all that I’m-so-sorry bullshit?”

“No, I don’t.” I cross my arms across my chest and lean against the wardrobe. “But that doesn’t mean other people won’t.”

“Now you’ve got it.” Heather smiles, like she’s genuinely proud, and it makes me feel sick.

“But still,” She blinks, and begins to fade away before my eyes, but I can still hear her voice, singing softly even after she’s gone.

  
“It’s _your_ fault.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so first off, if ANYBODY has an opinion on how I portrayed Duke in the suicide note (except *cough cough* Chandler is totally right *cough cough*) I would love to hear them, because it was a really interesting thing to write. Anyway, enjoy this bonus chapter, because I wasn't going to dedicate one to the note, except the note got too long and the I was like fuck it I want to write some Heather Chandler stuff. I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you in the next chapter, where, warning, everything starts to go downhill...


	6. Me And You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Veronica staggers drunk into 7-11 to buy cigarettes, a concerned J.D. contacts Heather McNamara, trying to find out what's going on.
> 
> But the situation is worse than he imagined...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and before I say anything about this chapter I just wanted to thank you for the hits, kudos and comments they honestly mean so much to me! And my bestie will tell you that when my hit counter got into the 200's I sent her about ten all-caps panicked texts about how I was practically shaking so yeah, THANK YOU ALL! Anyway, here is another bonus chapter, which is why it's so short, but the next chapter is, erm, serious, and I wanted to dedicate more time to it, so anyway, I hope you enjoy...

**J.D.**

 

Heather Duke’s suicide didn’t surprise me. Or fool me. I know what she wants, attention, and I know a liar when I see one.

What _did_ surprise me was her suicide note.

Not the bullshit about apologies. I’ve watched somebody write two fake suicide notes, so you could say I’m an expert when it comes to forging one, even if you are forging one for yourself.

But her apology to me…

No, that was a lie too. She _chose_ to drop me back here, to try and fuck with my life all over again. My life, and Veronica’s…

_Veronica._

What surprised me was the apology that came before mine, what surprised _me_ was Heather Duke.

Who knew she could be so clever?

Because if I know Veronica, and to be honest I probably know her better than anyone considering I’m the one who made her kill three people, she’s blaming herself.

Currently, I’m pretending I couldn’t care less what she thinks. How she feels. Pretending that the thought of Heather Duke _still_ managing to hurt her even with no power left doesn’t make me both sick and heartbroken.

That it doesn’t make me want to kill Heather Duke myself.

 

* * *

 

There’s something about working in 7-11 that makes you aware to people, and I know that sounds really fucking stupid, but you know that any old man coming in looking secretive is there to buy alcohol or cigarettes, and any teenager in a hoodie and cap is here to buy drugs from the manager.

Kids are only there for sweets. Parents with a child in tow are there to buy snacks for a cinema showing or a long journey.

Veronica comes in to buy a slushie every sunday.

She does _not_ come in to buy cigarettes. Or cans of beer.

And she _never_ comes in looking drunk as fuck.

But that’s her today.

She staggers up to the counter and gestures at a pack of cigarettes on the shelf behind me. I don’t think she even _realises_ it’s me.

I hand them to her and watch her stagger back out of the store.

Then I sprint to Heather McNamara’s house. It’s at the end of my old street, so I saw Chandler drop her there most days.

I knock on the door furiously, but she’s obviously not home, because her mum answers the door curiously.

“Hello?” I suddenly falter, because what the fuck am I meant to say to this woman?                                                                                                                           

“Erm, I’m, err, a friend of Heather’s. From high school.” Well that could have been worse…

“She never mentioned you. What’s your name? Heather sort of only ran in one circle…” “Yeah, erm, I was dating Veronica. Sawyer. I’m J.D.”

She sighs. “Ah, right, you need to talk to her about Veronica yes? She’s, well, mentioned some stuff. Heather’s at the cinema at the moment,” She disappears into the hall for a few moments then reappears holding a sheet of paper that she hands to me, “Call this number in a couple hours, she should be back then. I’ll inform her of you.” I want to argue with that, but what reason would I give?

I’ll just have to hope Heather is as worried as I am…

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, I’m holding a public phone to my ear and realise I’m literally bouncing

I stop bouncing.

The phone ring, and rings, and rings and rings and -

“I take it this is Jason Fucking Dean.”                                                                                                                                                                                         

“Heather. It’s JD, not Jason. It’s about Veronica.”

Silence. I take a breath. I think she does too.

“What do you mean? Veronica’s fine.”   

"Heather, when Veronica is  _fine_ , she doesn't stagger drunk into 7-11 to buy cigarettes."

"Cigarettes? Oh christ..."

"Heather, tell me what's going on!" She sighs, and there's a long silence again.

"JD, you've, well, you've heard about Heather?"

"Obviously."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

**Heather McNamara**

 

“JD, you’ve, well, you’ve heard about Heather?” His voice is cold enough to freeze hell over as he responds “Obviously.”

I don’t know what to tell him. What does he want to hear?

I don’t even know what to tell myself, so what can I tell him?

“Veronica, she, she took it hard.” Ok, there we go. That was an ok lie, maybe I should pretend we took her out for a drink yesterday and dared her to buy some cigarettes, rather than, than…

“I gathered, since it was - ” He stops, and I can hear the panic in his voice, what did he almost say? “Nevermind,” He continues, “Just tell me what’s going on Heather. Please!”

It’s the please that gets me. Does, does he still care? Heck, I don’t even know what happened between them, but Veronica broke up with him, I think, or I don’t know, these two have the most confusing relationship and I’m not exactly a goddess of love…

Should I tell him? Heather would, and so would Heather, but they would do it for the wrong reasons, and Martha? Well, I don’t know, but I don’t think she would…

But they’re not me. And who am I? The loyal one? The one who keeps your secrets?

What would Veronica want…

“She’s drinking and smoking and probably doing drugs and ignoring all of us and going to parties and - “                                                                                                     

“Woah, woah, slow down Heather, what do you mean?” I take a deep breath, but the tone in his voice reassures me that I’m doing the right thing…

“I’m only gonna say this once JD so don’t interrupt me. When Veronica read the suicide note two weeks ago she blamed herself, I don’t know why because she won’t talk to anyone. She started drinking and smoking and who knows what else, to be honest, I don’t want to know, then going to parties and she’s, she’s…” I stammer. I don’t know what else to say. Veronica hasn’t been the same since, since _it_ happened, and I want to stop her but I don’t see how, I don’t see _why_ she’s, she’s -

 

“She’s lost herself JD, and I don’t know how to help her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so I'm letting you all know now, the next chapter is, how do I put this? Well, dark, it's dark. And because of that, I might not update for about a week or so because 1) I am NOT going to enjoy writing this chapter because of what I'm about to put these characters through (sorry) and I'll probably put it off and 2) It's definitely going to be the darkest subject I'll tackle (if you've read the tags you can probably guess what I'm talking about now and NO it is not murder because murder is a dime a dozen with these people) so I am dedicating time to it. So I'll see you then...


	7. She Bit Off More Than She Could Chew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica just needs to block out the world, but she goes too far, and soon JD has to save her from herself...
> 
> And from others (attempted rape)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as the summary will tell you, two guys attempt to rape Veronica. JD does stop them, and the scene isn't too graphic (because that's not the kind of thing I'm trying to write), but this is your warning, so if you want to skip, skip. There's not really anything else in this chapter.

**Veronica**

 

They couldn’t understand, how could they understand? This is another tally to my body count, shit, I shouldn’t even _have_ a body count.

Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault

It never leaves my head. Heather tells me it every night. I can see it in the eyes of people who pass me on the street. They tell me it as I hand them their coffee.

 _I have to block it out_.

So I turned to alcohol at first. Drinking my problems into the caverns of drunkenness and then leaving them there.

But they don’t stay there forever.

_I have to block it out._

Then I picked up a cigarette. And another. And soon I was addicted but that was better than being addicted to anything else.

JD was right. The easiest way to block out the pain is to freeze your brain…

_I have to block it out…_

 

**J.D.**

 

Have you ever just walked down some random street in the middle of the night, when the clouds are hanging low and the air is thick? It’s calm. Peaceful. You don’t get many moments like that nowadays.

It’s silent…

Or at least, it would be silent, if there hadn’t been a raging party going on down the street from the street for at least five hours.

But it’s almost three o’clock and the music has died down, so I push open the front door and walk down the road.

I need to clear my head.

_Veronica._

I don’t know what I’m thinking. Does it scare me, what Heather said she was doing, what I know she’s doing because if you see her in the street it’s obvious, and should it scare me? Why would it scare me? Is it bad that it scares me? Why would it scare me? It scares me… I don’t want her hurt, just the idea of her hurting herself, of somebody else hurting her, makes me sick. And what’s even worse is that there’s no way I can help her, that I can _stop_ her doing this to herself, but it’s not like she would ever listen to me anyway… There’s nobody who can stop her. Heather said she tried, but she doesn’t know how, well there’s no way she could know how, I’m the only person in the _living_ world who knows why she’s blaming herself and _still_ I can’t help her…

See why I need to clear my head?

I walk past the house that was alive with drunk fools only a couple hours ago. Now it’s empty, a couple of people passed out in the front lawn and only one couple making out in a bush, I was expecting more.

I didn’t want to walk past here, I didn’t want to be reminded of that night…

_“Get your ass in gear make this whole town disappear.”_

I don’t want to remember that - well that’s a lie, I do, if it’s all I have to hold on to then I want the memory to never fade…

But I don’t want to remember the party. I didn’t go, but Veronica told me about it.

I don’t want to remember how _angry_ I was when Veronica’s so-called ‘friends’ abandoned her.

Yet here I am, looking up at a dark, seemingly empty house. Because something Heather said to me was stuck in my head all night…

_“She’s drinking and smoking and probably doing drugs and ignoring all of us and going to parties”_

Was Veronica _there_? At the party? She wouldn’t have been, she’s not that much of an idiot, to go and get wasted with a bunch of teenagers.

Right?

I turn and walk away. Not heading home, I’m not ready to face the emptiness yet, just down the street, hoping that this night will end in peace…

Or not.

There’s something going on in the alleyway next to me. I don’t stop, I don’t want to stop, until a high-pitched voice screams out and all the blood in my body freezes in place…

_Veronica._

I’m almost frozen, turning in horror to see two jocks, or at least they looked like it, they practically looked like Kurt and Ram, for a minute I thought it _was_ Kurt and Ram, with their arms trapping someone, trapping _Veronica_.

They lift up her skirt and try to rip open her top and one of them is kissing her and her arms are weakly pushing him away and it’s Veronica Veronica my Veronica Veronica.

The other one knocks her head to the floor and that snaps me out of whatever daze I was in...

I sprint down the alleyway, in control but not in control, and I need to get to Veronica, I need to help Veronica, I definitely punched somebody and I think I knocked somebody into the wall but nothing is going to stop me, _nobody_ is going to stop me until I reach her and then suddenly she’s in my arms and I just hold her and I wouldn’t be surprised if I was sobbing and for a moment she’s _safe_ and that’s all that matters until I think about who I’m saving her from…

They’re standing, leering, ready to beat the life out of me, until I pull a gun from under my coat, I learned the hard lessons a long time ago, and shoot it, the bullet flying between them.

They turn and run but I couldn’t care less about the idiots who just ran from a gun with no more bullets (it’s old and I can’t afford new ones) because Veronica Veronica Veronica Veronica _Veronica_ …

I’m there but not there as I carry her home. I never thought I would ever feel this again…

 

The _anger_.

The _love_.

The _pain_.

 

But the anger scares me the most…

I practically carry her back down the dark street, and I keep closing my eyes, because maybe if I keep them closed for long enough then this will all be a nightmare and Veronica won’t have been hurt and I would give anything for her to have been safe even if she forgives me after this and like me after this I would give my life just to keep her safe…

We reach her front door, and I root around in my pocket, throwing the two cigarettes and burnt-out joint behind us until I finally find the keys. I’m quiet as I take her in and lay her on her sofa because if her parents woke up the that would be extremely awkward.

I lay her down, and cover her with a blanket, pushing her hair up behind her airs, then kissing her forehead. I step back, look at her lying there, peaceful, and shake my head.

“God Veronica,” I mutter, turning to the front door, “What have you done? You’ve become a dead girl walking…”

I almost leave, in fact, I’m pulling the door closed behind me when I realise she’ll want some kind of explanation to this.

So I pull two sheets of paper out of a notepad on the coffee table and find a pen in one of the drawers.

Then I sit on the sofa by her feet and try to work out what the hell to write…

I don’t want to write, well, what happened, because I don’t want her parents to find it.

I don’t want her to know…

And I know that’s fucked-up, but I _need_ her to get better, to stop torturing herself, and she won’t stop if I say, if I tell her…

In the end, I write two notes. I’m no forgery master, that was Veronica, but I manage to imitate Heather’s slanted handwriting…  
  


**_Mr and Mrs Sawyer,_ **

**_I was just going on a walk, around about midnight, when I came across a party. I wasn’t going to stop but then I saw Veronica staggering into the house. I took her back here (the keys were in her pocket that’s why the front door is open) and she fell asleep instantly. Don’t worry, I know she’d been at the bar for a few hours, but she was only arriving at the party when I got her._ **

**_Heather M_ **

 

I leave that one on the coffee table next to the sofa, and tuck the other into her blanket, where they hopefully won’t find it.

Then I leave.

And I just, just, just go home.

Because if I’m honest, I’m scared what I might do if I don’t...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you made it to here. And I don't really know what to say except I have like three tests coming up so I might not update regularly for like a couple weeks, so I don't know when the next chapter will be up. But until then...
> 
> Mae  
> xoxo


	8. You're The One I Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather is the only member of the old ruling party left that hasn't suffered a visit from the demon queen, but that's all about to change. Veronica is scared, confused, and despite the concern of her friends, there's only one place, one person, that she feels can help her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while, I've been busy with tests and getting teeth pulled out (yeah that actually bloody hurts) and stupid drama so that should explain my short absence. Anyway, I have more planned and FINALLY a definite outline so I should publish another chapter maybe around Wednesday, but enjoy..

**Heather McNamara**

 

I knew that Veronica was going to that party. I tossed and turned all night, and now here I was, staring down at a bowl of cereal trying to reason with myself.

It wasn’t working.

I told myself that even if I’d gone to the party, Veronica wouldn’t have spoken to me. She wouldn’t have listened, wouldn’t have let me take her home.

But the voice in my head just laughed

And I swear, it sounded exactly like Heather Chandler.

I blinked once, then twice, then dropped my spoon.

Red nails reached over, picked it up, and dipped it into the bowl of cornflakes.

Heather Chandler smiled around the spoon in her mouth from across the table.

“How’ve you been Heather darling?”

I stood up, knocking my chair away, and ran into my living room. No no no no no not again she’s not back no no no I thought she was gone I thought I was done after that night…

_Desperately pulling at my hair, trying to curl it, trying to be her, trying to keep her memory alive. Mourning her even though I hated her and looking at Heather smiling and wondering why isn’t she mourning too? The days of pain and depression and bullying and when it couldn’t get any worse it did because Heather Chandler was there every night, whispering in my ear, like she always had been. Telling me I wasn’t pretty enough, I was too fat, too lazy, too dumb, I could never be anybody special, I was about to be thrown right over the side, drowning in the raging black ocean._

But then Veronica saved me. And Heather never came back…

“Well I’m back now. Did you really think I was gonna spend my days in chorus choirs and bonding circles? You know me Heather…”

I turn to the girl, to the _demon_ , that ruled my life for years, until she was finally gone.

I sneer. Let my face grow calm. Let my hands drop to my sides. “You should be rotting in hell Heather.”

She smiles. “Well you’ve got stronger. Don’t let that bitch get you down Heather, I already did that. And for once, I’m not back to torture someone.” She takes me by the arm and sits me down next to her on the sofa, brushing a tendril of hair behind my ear.

“I did always like you, you know? Laugh, cry, go on, because I know it never seemed like it, but there were those rare times when you would laugh and the sun would catch your hair and your eyes, they would actually glow because you were _happy_ , and I would think to myself what is a girl like that doing with the Heathers? Because you were strong Heather, you survived. Better than the rest of us, anyway.” She lets out a hollow laugh.

“Who would have thought that yellow would come out on top?”

And with that, she fades away. And I’m left with three thoughts going around my head; I need to get to Veronica’s house and see if she’s ok, I need to probably call Martha too. And then the final one.

What. The. Fuck. Was. That?

But I push Heather Chandler out of my brain, call up Martha, and head over to Veronica’s.

And it’s on the walk there that I realise something.

I don’t hate Heather Chandler anymore.

 

**Veronica**

 

I don’t remember anything about last night. I don’t even know if _anything_ happened last night, but based on the reaction of parents when they found me passed out on the sofa, I guess I went to the party.

The party…

I remember some boy coming up to me, offering a cigarette (which I took) and inviting me, oh fuck where did he invite me?

I don’t know, but I think it was a party…

But if I _did_ go to a party, then what the fuck is Heather’s note about? Maybe I didn’t go to a party?

But maybe Heather didn’t write the note…

I just lie on the couch for a while, staring up at the ceiling, just thinking…

Then the front door flies open and I see Heather, with Martha in tow, standing in the doorway.

“Erm, hi.” I croak, and they both rush over, Martha sitting at my feet (why do I half-remember feeling somebody almost sitting on my feet?) and Heather kneeling down beside me, concerned.

“Right bitch, let’s get you up and at ‘em. Where are your parents? Are you ok? Did you go to the party, well obviously you did your breath stinks of tequila, but who brought you home? And -”

I swing out of the blanket and stumble over to my kitchen counter. “Christ Heather, I’m fine. My parents left a couple of hours ago for work.” I rake my hand through my hair then turn to face the two of them, giving Heather the stink eye.

“And _you_ brought me home you motherfucker.”

She pales in confusion, and I don’t see her, I see perfect Heather Chandler with her perfect skin and perfect hair and perfect clothes and fucking perfect expression -

This is what a hangover does to me. I sigh and fall against the counter. Heather walks over and picks up the note that _she_ was meant to have left there.

“Mr and Mrs Sawyer, I was just going on a walk, around about midnight, when I came across a party. I wasn’t going to stop but then I saw Veronica staggering into the house. I took her back here (the keys were in her pocket that’s why the front door is open) and she fell asleep instantly. Don’t worry, I knew she’d been at the bar for a few hours, but she was only arriving at the party when I got her.” She looks up at me, forehead wrinkling.

“But I didn’t write this Ronnie, I promise.”

“Did you just call me Ronnie? Fucking hell…” She smiles at me through her teeth as I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and since it appears to piss you off badly I’m gonna call you that now, but bitch, I’m -”

“There’s a note in the blanket”

We both turn to Martha, who’s holding a sheet of white paper between her fingers, and there’s something in her eyes as she reads, and I _know_ then, I know what that note will say.

I know who brought me home.

Martha clears her throat. “Veronica. I brought you home because I found you fucking wasted at a party full of high-school burnouts, oh it’s J.D. by the way. And I wasn’t at the party, so I’ve got no clue what happened to you, but you weren’t hurt or high, so I’m pretty sure you were just drunk as fuck. And I know your parents, so I left a note pretending to be Heather McNamara, so if they call her and blow your cover I’m sorry but it was the only thing I could think of, which, well, if you read this you’ll have read it so I won’t bother. Hopefully your parents don’t find this one either.”

Martha stops reading, but the paper is completely full, so I know she’s stopped. I lunge for the sheet and snatch it from her grasp, and sure enough, she didn’t read the whole thing at all.

 

**_Veronica,_ **

 

**_Fucking hell, you need to be more careful. I brought you home because I found you fucking wasted at a party full of high-school burnouts. And I wasn’t at the party, so I’ve got no clue what happened to you, but you weren’t hurt or high, least that I could tell (oh there will be a bruise on your thigh because you fell off the coach) so I’m pretty sure you were just drunk as fuck. And I know your parents, so I left a note pretending to be Heather McNamara, so if they call her and blow your cover I’m sorry but it was the only thing I could think of, which, well, if you read this you’ll have read it so I won’t bother. Hopefully your parents don’t find this one either. And Veronica, I’m serious, you need to stop. Don’t go back down the road we took about a lifetime ago, because it’s not any different, this time you’re just killing yourself. And I know that you don’t trust me, but please believe that I’m only trying to help you, because contrary to what you may believe, I do still care about you, and I don’t want you to get hurt._ **

 

**_Please, stay safe. I can’t always be there to save you, even though I wish that was possible._ **

 

**_JD_ **

 

I let the slip of paper fall to the wooden floorboards. Heather snatches it up, but I don’t care, I couldn’t care less, I can’t even think about anything about J.D…

_JD_

He, he cares about, about _me_?

Do I care about him?

I have to see him…

I race upstairs, and when I open my closet the first thing I see is the red blazer that Heather Duke gave me at graduation…

 

* * *

 

Martha and Heather race up the stairs after me, they must have talked for a few minutes, because I meet them halfway and they gasp.

I’m in a red blazer over a black shirt that I normally work in. There’s a dark blue skirt belted around my waist and black fishnet tights snug in a pair of dark red heels.

Blue no longer. Young no longer, innocent and peaceful no longer. I’ve seen too much and done too much to be wise and good and true, if everyone expects to be the sheriff, then I may as well obey. I’ll be _queen_.

Heather Chandler and I smirk together as I push past the two of them, heading to the door. “Veronica!” Martha yells at me, “Where are you going?”

I whirl around to face the two of them, so full of concern and I just. Can’t. It. Anymore.

“I’m going to see JD, I’ll see you some time.”

“Veronica, wait!” Martha grabs my wrist. “ I know that the suicide note affected you, but this, whatever you’ve decided you’ll do as a distraction, this isn’t the answer! Please, listen to me. Don’t go to JD, I don’t know what he did to you but he’ll just hurt you again Veronica.”

“Holy shit Ronnie,” Heather chimes in, “He’s a walking bomb ready to explode and take us all out with him.”

They almost had me. They almost made me what I once was…

But I’m not seventeen any longer.

 

**J.D.**

 

I take the opportunity of a break to grab a slushie and get some fresh air. I don’t know what I’m expecting; trust, forgiveness, I wouldn’t even care if she didn’t act any different to me…

That’s a lie.

But then she walks up the road and I swear to god I thought she’d been possessed by Chandler…

_Red blazer._

_Red scrunchie round the wrist._

_Red shoes._

“JD”

“Greetings and salutations.”

And we’re seventeen again, in a world that I’m not quite sure isn’t a dream…

God, I want to be seventeen. If I could go back and just _listen_ , just have a life with her, I would. I would have thrown down the gun and let go of the anger.

I want _us_ to be seventeen. And to do that, I need to keep Veronica safe. On my side. Happy. I _need_ to do that, because that’s all I can do.

Let’s be seventeen Veronica, even if we don’t have the right…

**Veronica**

 

**_Dear Diary,_ **

**_Wow I haven’t done this bullshit for a while. I tore up the pages, that, well, erm, contained, stuff, because if anybody ever found those…_ **

**_Anyway, today, I, erm, I went to see JD, and it, it actually went pretty well. He was nice. Sympathetic. He understood. For most of my life, all I wanted was somebody to help, to teach me how to thrive. But being with him, I don’t feel like I need to be the person everyone expects me to be, the person that the Heathers “helped” me into becoming._ **

**_That didn’t make much sense, but it’s hard to get across how I feel. Martha and Heather didn’t want me to see him, but to be honest, well I do care, but it’s easier to be stone-cold to their concern. I really channeled Heather today. I needed to be the perfect mythic bitch, and here we are, not really sure if I’m falling back into a trap._ **

**_This doesn’t really make sense. Sorry. But I’m in a weird mood._ **

**_Maybe I’ll, erm, write in this again,_ **

**_V. Sawyer_ **

**_Dear Diary,_ **

**_I met with JD again today. Slushies, like we used to do. And I can’t help feeling like I’m tearing open a scar by letting him back into my life, but I can’t help it._ **

**_I still want him to fight for me. Because I know I would, I’d fight for him._ **

**_And is that bad? Good? But there’s just something about him, it takes me back to a better time, when I really thought there was hope, that life could be beautiful._ **

**_I’m not a child anymore, thank the heavens. I’m not a naive little girl who has dreams and wishes on shooting stars, I know the bullshit we call home._ **

**_But I’m scared. Because when I’m with JD, I don’t feel that. I feel like I’m home. Really home. Safe._ **

**_I’ll write again tomorrow_ **

**_V. Sawyer_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I was in a weird mood when I started this chapter a couple of days ago (more like a week ago) I had J.D. and Veronica KISS. I mean, no. Just no. And in case you were wondering, I was listening to Be More Chill as I wrote this, so if you spotted that reference, i love you. (It was small). And have you seen the Heather's Riverdale episode? Some people seemed to hate it, but personally, I thought it was bloody awesome. And Cheryl, amazing, I mean come on, 'Does somebody have a chainsaw because what. the -' yeah sorry I'm fangirling and I'm not even a big Riverdale fan. Anyways, next chapter should be out Wednesday like I said, so I'll see you then!
> 
> Mae  
> xoxo


	9. Pray At My Altar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who gives you advice?
> 
> Dear Heather Chandler...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this bonus chapter!

**Heather, Heather and Veronica**

 

**_Dear Heather Chandler,_ **

 

**_Hey, it’s Heather M here, at your grave. Laying flowers, which I don’t think I’ve ever done but times change, don’t they? I sort-of wish you’d come back, come and see me, because I need your help Heather, I need you to help Veronica._ **

 

**_Erm, Heather, it’s, it’s Veronica. I was, oh who the heck am I kidding, I don’t even know why I’m here at your grave, staring down at some yellow flowers that look fresh, but I didn't know Heather still cared._ **

 

**_Bitch. It’s Heather Duke. Just wanted to ask a question, since I’ve got nothing better to do. Did you ever have a crush? Like, on somebody who was taken? Well I mean you stole boyfriends, like weekly, but you never cared. Right?_ **

 

**_I don’t know how to help Veronica, I don’t know if I need to help her Heather, god, I don’t know why but I wish you were here. To offer advice. Though you didn’t ever give me advice on anything except how to be more worthy of your friendship, but I really need any advice I can get._ **

**_I’ve been seeing JD, and not like you think, we’re just friends. And I don’t know why I’m telling you this because all you’d do is laugh._ **

 

**_I have a crush, I think. No, not a crush. Crushes are for children and I’m not a baby. More like somebody that should be with me, but he isn’t._ **

 

**_Should I be concerned? Should I try to stop her? Is it helping her? Christ, I know that sounds stupid but she’s stopped, well, all the other stuff, and they don’t seem to be more than friends, but what is they still want to be more than friends?_ **

 

**_I know what you would tell me. He’s as freak and you’re an honorary Heather, you can do better. But I don’t need your approval._ **

 

**_What would you do if you were here Heather? Take the man? I know you would, because you’re a bitch. Should I do that though? Should I take him?_ **

 

**_Help me Heather, please…_ **

 

**_Leave me be Heather, please…_ **

 

**_Teach me Heather, please…_ **

 

**J.D.**

 

I can’t even control myself when I’m around her. I let things slip. Let secrets fly.

That’s bad.

Because, and I know this sounds stupid, I don’t want her to know. Know that I was abandoned. Know that I’m alone.

I don’t want her to worry.

So I’m trying to work out how to keep it in.

We can be fake-alone together baby...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is short. Sorry. I wanted to, well I don't really know why I wrote it, but it's sort-of some context of how lost everybody is. And how J.D. doesn't want Veronica to know his dad abandoned him. And also, like, I don't know when the next chapter will be out, it could be anything up to a couple of weeks, so this is an apology for that too. 
> 
> I'll see you in the next one! Where I promise more stuff happens...  
> xoxo


	10. Prove You're Not A Pussy Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather Duke is awake. And now Veronica needs to decide if she's ready to face her demons or if she's just a little girl who will bury her head in her pillow and ignore the taunting voice of Heather Chandler...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOUR GIRL IS FINALLY BAAAAAAAACK! Holy crap guys, I'm so sorry this took me so long to upload. Not gonna lie, I really just didn't want to write it even though I had the summary and everything, but I just got braces on today (yep those were fun lmao but if you are ever gonna get them on, don't panic, because it literally doesn't hurt heck I was like when are they gonna start before looking at my reflection in her mask and realizing they were nearly finished) so i was in a kind of screw-it-lets-do-shit-all-today mood and here we are! I hope you enjoy...

**Heather Duke**

I’ve been floating. High on painkillers, buzzed out on meds, etc etc. And though most of the time I’m completely spaced, there are gaps, like, five minute gaps, where I’m aware. Where I can _think_.

Mostly, I think of you Heather. How you would help me. How you would save me. Even though I know you wouldn’t, you’d just laugh.

As clarification, you _epically_ failed at being a best friend.

And I’d like to say more, but I can already feel myself slipping away…

Wait wait before I go hey HANG ON HEATHER ok good, You’re listening. So, erm, can you do, wait, _do_ me a favour.

Get Sawyer to come and see me. I want to fuck with her for one last time.

Thanks.

 

**Veronica**

“No way in hell would I go play pretend-friends with that motherfucker!” I growl at Heather. She holds the phone to her ear, and I know what will come next.

She’ll lower her voice and tell Duke’s parents that of course she’ll go and see her. Out of guilt, fear, heck I don’t know.

“Mr and Mrs Duke, I don’t know if Heather would be most pleased with a visit from me right now.” She waits, and I can hear crackling on the other end of the phone. “Oh, well if she requested, then I can possibly make a visit - oh no, of course, if she only wants, yes, yes, ok I’ll see you Mrs Duke, thank you for calling.”

Heather lets the phone drop and bounce around on it’s plastic coil and falls back against the wall. “What do I do Ronnie? I mean she wants to see me, and only me, don’t worry, but -”

“Christ Heather, what do you owe her?” I run my hand back through my hair. “I don’t think it’s important to fulfill the wishes of someone who _literally_ told you to go kill yourself because you weren’t worthy.”

We’d been arguing about this for ten minutes before the phone ran. And no matter what I said, I knew her view would never change.

At least she wasn’t dragging me along. But Heather knew that I’d rather choke myself to death on corn nuts than go see that bitch. But I don’t understand what H thinks she _owes_ Duke, the pain she caused her was far worse than the pain she caused me.

No, I won’t think about that pain. I won’t let that happen again.

Martha, at least, is on the same page as me. “She’ll just use you like a tool over again, another stepping stone back up to the position of power she craves so badly.” That was what she said to me over the phone earlier, and what she told Heather yesterday when they showed up at my work announcing that Heather was awake.

Sometimes the fact that they’re all called Heather is so fucking confusing I just want to march into a legal office myself and get their names changed.

My parents agree with me too, when I arrive home. “You’ve experienced enough trauma without having to care for somebody who mistreated you.” My mum told me over the dinner table. But I didn’t really take her words into consideration, because then she wasn’t talking about Duke, she was talking about JD and how he mistreated me.

_JD_

I didn’t see him today. But now I’m lying on my bed clutching a pillow and wondering if I should have, even though he told me he was busy, or something.

I can already feel myself slipping back into how it was before. I was too obsessed, too blind to see where all we did was going to get me.

“Better not be blind again bitch. We could end up with another dead body in our hands.”

Oh fuck not this again.

“Hello Heather.” I sit up and she’s there, stretched out at the edge of my bed, twirling her hair round her ring finger, smiling her evangelical smile at me.

“My dear Veronica, shouldn’t you be in a car with Heather, driving back from the hospital?”

“I’m not going to see Heather Duke? Are you fucking crazy?”

“I don’t think you’re crazy. I just think you’re a pussy.”

I stand straight upright at that. “What the hell Heather?” She stands too, facing me.

“I mean, come _on_ Veronica! Are you scared?”

“I am _not_ scared of Heather Duke. She’s a little whiny bitch who needs to grow up and accept she’s just a nobody from some random town in Ohio.”

But Heather only rolls her eyes. “Don’t play games with me little girl. I know you. What’s the mean bitch gonna do to you that I haven’t done already?”

I lie on my bed, tucking my feet away from her, and squash my face into the pillow. “Just go Heather. I’m done. I’m not seeing her. I’m not even hearing you.”

And, amazingly, she begins to fade away. But before she goes, she mutters. “If you want to fuck with eagles, you have to learn to fly Veronica. Your parents are small underachievers who never confronted their fears and look where it got them? Where’s the brave talk by yourself, alone in your room, gonna get you? I’ll tell you where, it’ll get you fucked. Lying in a hospital ward high on painkillers and wishing somebody would come and visit you.”

I open my eyes and I feel like her words have cut a knife straight through the center of my soul. I can’t stay here, in this room with these ghosts and the poisonous air that’s slowly choking me alive.

I need to see JD

So I slip downstairs and out the door, breathing in the cool air. I find myself leaning against the wall of some random house and crying except I’m not really crying; it feels like tears should by all rights be falling down my face but there’s nothing. There’s always and forever only nothing.

I’m nothing.

Heather’s right. I’m just some pussy who can’t go and confront her demons even when those demons are out of it in a psychiatric ward.

Because I’m weak. And empty. I feel like I’m just falling and falling and then every time a ledge shows up I grab it only to find it knocked out of my hands by the words of a girl who isn’t even alive.

Is this all I’ll ever be? A coward?

Maybe I should go and Heather. I mean, what do I have to lose? Maybe Heather Chandler would leave me alone if I toughened up and faced my fears.

I should go home. I should just sit there and let her words poke holes in my skin until I’m nothing left but a beat up toy for her to play with until she gets bored and throws it out. Even from beyond the grave, Heather still manages to truly fuck up my life in the most epic way.

All the Heather’s ever did was fuck up everybody’s life. Heather Chandler tore them apart, Heather Duke picked through the remains and Heather McNamara thought burying them was kind but it was only crueler.

If somebody is gone, lost, torn apart, you just have to let them deal with it. Because mercy killing is still murder.

My parents tried to stop these kind of thoughts when JD was still, well, when that was still going on.

_There’s a doctor in Cleveland, we’d like you to talk with him._

_Psychiatric._

_There’s no shame in getting some help._

I’d rather stay here, crying against a brick wall and avoiding my room because in my room there lies ghosts and demons of my past that won’t seem to fade away.

Heather Chandler was probably right about me. I will just end up drugged up on painkillers in a hospital ward praying that somebody will come and see me, but that somebody is leaning against a wall in the middle of the night crying.

The circle goes on and on…

 

**J.D**

I didn’t want to see Veronica today. I told her my dad needed help, she still doesn’t know and I’d rather keep it that way, but I didn’t want to deal with the pain.

We talked like friends. She told me about her life working in the real world and I told her about my life homeless. She told me about this boy that once asked her out at the cinema then stood her up for Martha, who realised and took the boy on a second date to the coffee shop she works at. I told her nothing.

She told me about her parents trying to get her into an arts program at some college far from Ohio, but she wasn’t ready to leave yet, so she camped out at Heather M’s house until they stopped bugging her. I told her about nobody.

What am I meant to say?

Where is this even gonna get me? I’ll tell you, drugged up in some insane asylum because I let her into my heart again and snapped like a psychopath, going on a killing spree of everybody who ever hurt her.

Now, the only place it’s getting me is sitting on a metal bench in the park in he middle of the night, watching water slowly fall from the sky.

I wonder where Veronica is. Probably home, happy. Maybe she’s writing in her diary again, or maybe she never gave that up. I wonder what she’s writing about me. I would bet anything it’s along the lines of Dear Diary, that weird kid I dated who killed everybody is talking to me again, and I’m only talking to him out of pity.

I know she’ll never love me again. I know that I blew it. I wish we could turn back time to the good old days where all I’d done was fire blanks at two dickheads in the cafeteria.

Could you imagine if I’d never done anything Veronica? Where would we be now?

Maybe we’d still be together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, there were A LOT of extremely random references in that chapter. See if you can guess any and it might appear stupid yo you but you'll probably be right. And second, OH MY GOD OVER 700 HITS WHAT THE HELL?!?!! I honestly never expected this fic to get beyond 300 so thank you all SO MUCH for the hits and kudos and comments you are truly some awesome people. Lots of love for you all. Third and finally, I wrote this chapter on a diet of music that FOR ONCE wasn't from a musical! I know right?! It's crazy. But the album is by Daughter and it's called Music From Before The Storm (you know that game Life Is Strange? If you don't, it's awesome GO AND PLAY It and if you do the second one? about Chloe and Rachel? The prequel/sequel kind of thing, yeah it's the soundtrack) and damn is it awesome I seriously recommend go and listen, my favourite has to be Burn It Down but - ok I'll stop blabbering now and let you get on with your day, don't know when the next chapter will be up because I'm not the type of person to schedule but yeah stick around for that one.
> 
> Peace out,  
> Mae xoxo


	11. Girl's Like Me Don't Climb High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to Heather Duke ends in an unlikely friendship...
> 
> But also the revealing of some secrets...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phewww it's been a long time. HI! I really hope you enjoy this chapter cause I enjoy this chapter and yeah it also caused me to rewrite literally my entire plot because I decided somebody (no spoilers here people, I will name no names) deserved a happy ending.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Veronica**

 

Well I never thought I’d be doing this.

When I asked Heather if I could hitch along with her on her next visit to see Duke, she must have thought I was insane.

I _know_ she thought I was insane. I know that _I’m_ insane.

But here I am. Sitting in Heather’s car, heading up to the hospital in which that girl that hates me most resides in.

I’ve been sitting here trying to work out if she’s the girl I hate most. Because I do pity her, and I always have. Living in Heather Chandler’s shadow for your whole life would _not_ be pleasant. And I imagine thats what made her the way she was. But the things she did to me and to Heather McNamara were far harsher than anything Heather Chandler did, well, I’m only speaking for me I guess, because I have no desire to delve into Heather’s dark past.

The sound of the car grinding to a halt shakes me from my thoughts. Heather looks over at me.

“You, you don’t have to do this Ronnie. You don’t have to feel, I don’t know, pressured, or anything…” Her voice trails off and I can see her nails squeezing into her palm.

I remember the first day of freshman year. The Heather’s were the head clique in grade school, obviously, but that year, everything changed.

Before, in the lower grades, it was their backpacks. Red, green and yellow. As we grew, it moved to the small things; nail polish, scrunchies and occasionally one item of clothing outside of school.

Then came high school. It was like a colour prison. Even Heather Chandler locked herself in it, woe betide if the demon queen herself showed up in any other colour than red. But it was easier for her, if Heather or Heather came in any anything but green or yellow, they were shunned. But not just for the day, no.

I remember that day. June 6th. The day Heather Duke wore a red hairband.

Yeah, a fucking _hairband_. That was all it took. She wasn’t a Heather anymore. Not at least until she convinced some girl that had pissed off Chandler to get drunk and have sex with some unknown senior, then that girl got pregnant and she dropped out.

The next day, Duke was back at the center table. But I’ll always remember that every single day of that month, she still wore green. Green nail polish. Green everything.

I stand by the term colour prison.

 

**Heather McNamara**

 

“Do, do you wanna come in with me, or…”

“No Heather, I’ll talk to her after you.” Veronica turns away from me and sits on the red plastic chairs of the waiting room. I turn away as well, walking down the linoleum corridor.

I don’t know why she’s here.

But I can guess who made her come.

I would look over at Veronica, forehead pressed against the foggy glass of the passenger-seat window, open my mouth, and then close it again.

What was I supposed to say?

_Oh hey Veronica, just wondering, has Heather Chandler, you know, the DEAD girl, been appearing in the middle of the day and torturing you?_

I would sound stupid. Childish. Pathetic.

I look over at a nurse, walking down the corridor with a clipboard. She smiles at me, and I blink, prepared to smile back, but then I’m screaming.

Heather Chandler’s eyes stare back at me from a round, freckled face.

The nurse rushes over to me. I think she’s talking, but I can’t hear. Her ginger curls are falling in my face.

And then it’s like a fog lifts from my brain and I can stand. Heather is gone. “I’m fine” I mutter, and push the nurse away, heading down to room 373.

The first time I saw Heather, I wasn’t prepared for the sight. She wasn’t all wired-up and everything, but her eyes were hollow. Her face empty.

Though I must admit, I was so fucking happy to see her eyes light up when I walked in.

They do it again now. She pats the side of her bed, and I can’t help but notice pale red eyeshadow brushed over her eyelids. But I don’t comment on it, these things keep us stable.

“Hey Heather. How’ve you been?”

“Ha, same old same old Mac, same old same old.” She hasn’t called me Mac in forever, back in sophomore year Heather Chandler told us we couldn’t use nicknames. But she called me that the first time I visited and now she uses it regularly.

I must admit, I kind of love it.

“Heather, somebody, erm -”

“Veronica’s here isn’t she?” Heather sighs. “Not gonna lie, babe, I kind of wanted to see her too, I need to talk to her.” Heather grips my hand. “Could you bring her in?”

I smile, but it’s a sad smile. “Yeah, sure.” I stand up and brush down my black trousers. I notice Heather’s eyes flick over to my yellow blouse, but she doesn’t comment either, and I realise that she truly has changed.

Veronica is waiting outside the door.

 

**Veronica**

 

Heather’s eyes are closed when I walk in. Her face is so empty, but there’s the ghost of a smile dancing upon her thin chapped lips. I perch on the end of the bed.

“Hey Heather.”

“Hey Veronica.”

“Are you ok?”

“Do I look ok?” Her eyes snap open and she sits up straight. Her hands knot into fists. “No Veronica, I’m not ok. I’m really not ok. My note was true, everything I said was true, and that makes it ok right? Because then I’m the same as Heather and that’s the only place I belong, isn’t it? That’s just how you see me. A clone. And I am so so so much more Veronica, so much more. I want to be _so_ much more.” Her voice breaks, and the look in her eyes crushes both my anger and my heart into a million pieces.

“My kingdom’s long gone Sawyer, and what’s a queen without her people?”

I make some noise in my throat, and that’s when I realise I’m crying. Heather is crying too, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I lean forward and squeeze the trembling girl into a hug.

“It’s not ok Heather, but that’s ok.”

She breaks away. “Did you crave her approval too? Heather Chandler’s I mean? Because I did, and for some fucked-up reason I’m still craving it.”

“Yes Heather, I craved her approval too. Who didn’t?” I take a shallow breath and the words that were buried so low come flying out of my heart. “I craved her approval since the first day some boy stole my chocolate bar in fourth grade and she stole it back because she wanted to copy my spelling test for the rest of the year. I craved her approval ever since seventh year when she backhanded that bitch that cracked Martha’s glasses on purpose in basketball because she hated the bitch and wanted to use my math notes. I wanted to be like all of _you_ , seemingly-perfect, solid teflon. I wanted to be a Heather so bad it hurt.”

She pulls me back into a hug. “Do you know why I became the new red queen? Because I was too scared. I couldn’t play the grieving girl and lie Veronica, because I didn’t miss her. And it scared me, so fucking much. I was her best friend, and I, I failed her.”

We’re looking into each others eyes, but it’s like looking at a mirror. Tears pouring but you’re not entirely sure why, empty glazed expression.

You’ve seen too much and its too much for you now.

I clutch Heather’s hand. She lies back down and closes her eyes, but keeps talking. “I was jealous of you, you know? Heather feared you, I wanted that. But it was more. You were really fucking pretty and then you became popular so you were all of a sudden better than me in Heather’s eyes, and then you fucking fell in love and unlike me that person actually loved you back. You were perfect.”

I bite back on the words that danced to the tip of my tongue. This may possibly be the deepest, most truthful conversation I’ve ever had with anybody, but you still have to be careful.

You still can’t spill the secrets that could bring punishment.

Instead, I try to steer the conversation away from the dark places.

“Who wouldn’t love you back Heather?”

She laughs, but it’s hollow, and tears begin to worm their way down her cheeks again. A silver droplet slides over her red lips and falls from her face.

“Heather.”

For a moment, I’m confused. Heather Chandler? But she just said…

And then I get it.

The bullying. The torture.

The only way to combat love is hate.

“Mac?”

She smiles, and it’s bitter. “She’s, well, she’s fucking perfect. And I wouldn’t be if I told her.”

Her lips part, and it seems like she’s about to say something else, but then she shakes her head back slightly and fixes me with that I’m-popular-and-I-know-everything-about-you smile she sometimes wears. “But I’m not the only one in love, huh Veronica?” I start to rise, wary of where she’s going with this, but then I remember what happened to her and where I am right now, so I sit.

“I don’t know what drug you’re on Heather, but -”

“Oh please!” She sits up, then lies back down as if it’s too much for her. My heart clenches. “It’s obvious. When the wedding date is announced, I expect to be a bridesmaid considering I’m the reason he’s back here not hiking down the road -”

“Wait, what?” I fly up from the bedsheets and she stares at me in confusion, eyebrows knotting together.

“You know, his dad, _abandoned_ him. And he hitchhiked. And then I picked him up and he was like don’t drop me at Westerburg but I -” She stops, and she doesn’t know what she’s said.

She doesn’t know.

 _I_ don’t know…

“He didn’t tell you?” Her hands fly up to her mouth. “Oh god Veronica, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry…”

But I barely hear her, because I’m tearing down the corridor.

JD didn’t tell me why didn’t he tell me why why why…

_Why?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I currently have two new obsessions; SIX! and Dear Evan Hansen, so there were a couple references in there, if you spotted them, much love. And second, oh my god every time that my friend messages me with "There's 800 hits! There's 900 hits!" I literally lose it so (and I know I've said this before but whatever) THANK YOU SO BLOODY MUCH I CAN'T BELIEVE SOMETHING I WROTE HAS REACHED SO MANY PEOPLE!!! Your support means the world. Also many many thanks to @Amelie_jas and @apple_cidre for the support (ily guys) as well as to the countless amounts of people on the discord servers because there are too many of you to thank. 
> 
> The next chapter, err, idk about that I'm sorry guys. But it should be a bit sooner because I have big things planned.
> 
> Until next time!


	12. Thank you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short thank-you chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't actually anything to do with the story, sorry everybody

So, as some may know, this story has reached 1000 hits (idk the exact number now) and I'm literally screaming. I mean, how?! How did this happen? How did something that I, a year 9 student getting ready to take GCSE's in a little corner of England, reach 1000 people and more? And yes, I am aware that compared to other stories on A03, 1000 hits isn't all that much, but to me it is because this story doesn't seem like it should be that famous because, I mean, come on, it's just my little Heather's story, it's not that good or that clever or anything, at least not to me. But 1000 hits, well, kinda proves otherwise, I guess? I don't know, I just wanted to write this little thing to thank everybody for reading and commenting and leaving kudos and just generally (at least I hope so) appreciating this story cause, well, that feels pretty fucking amazing. And I'm gonna do my special thanks thing here, so thank you to @Amelie_jas for being the first person to hear the plot of this fic as we walked to form that one morning, and for your continued support of anything I've written, couldn't have done it without you <3\. And thank you to @apple_cidre for again your continued support, you were basically the reason I knew how many hits this fic had got because I was too scared to look for myself and then you'd spam me every time it passed a hundred mark. And also many thanks for the spam when I reached 1000 because yeah that was a nice thing to wake up to and then scream about before promptly passing out again cause I'd just been dragged out to see Endgame after getting back from camping. 

In conclusion, thank you everybody. Thank you so so much for enjoying ma story <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so again sorry for making you all think OMG NEW CHAPTER and then just being like oh she's a sappy bitch. I promise a new chapter will be up soon, see y'all then <3


	13. Why Do I Cry Myself To Sleep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A world made of thorns.
> 
> Who could hope to be strong enough to thrive in it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And GUESS WHO'S BACK BACK BACK BACK AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN!
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> But YEET I finished this chapter (after many distractions including but not limited to discord, sunshine, seven exams to revise for, a new obsession with the musical Hadestown, Killing Stalking make me drown in my own tears and ice cream) and nobody can accuse me of using a monologue to fill space because this chapter was actually planned from the beginning. For once.

**Veronica**

 

It’s been a day.

A day since I made up with my worst enemy and discovered she wasn’t so demonic after all. A day since I learned that Heather  _ Duke _ , of all people, has a crush on Heather  _ McNamara.  _

A day since I discovered the person that I thought I might be able to trust again was lying to me.

JD  _ lied _ to me.

Why?

It’s the question I haven’t stopped asking myself. Does he not trust me? Is he just pretending? Was he never in love with me? Has he even changed? Am I just going to become an accessory to more crimes? 

I should stop torturing myself. I should just go and find him.

I swing my legs off the bed, then stop. He won’t be at 7-11, and of course I don’t know where else to find him. 

God I’m so fucked.

You know what I wish for? Just a perfect place. Somewhere that’s green. Beautiful. Somewhere that doesn’t force me to worry if my ex-boyfriend is going to fucking  _ kill _ somebody. 

I wouldn’t have to worry about Martha overeating then hurting herself at the gym trying to look  _ right _ , spending half her life in a daydream, heck, she wouldn’t even have MaDD. I wouldn’t have to worry about Heather spiralling into a fit of depression when nobody's there and popping the cap off some pills. I wouldn’t have to worry about Heather Duke killing herself again from unrequited love and the feeling of failure. I wouldn’t have to worry about the girl  _ I _ killed coming back from the dead and slowly worming her way into my soul with words that cut like knives.

I can see it.

High school would be like it was after we abolished the Heathers. Except Chandler would still be alive, she’d just be nicer. Heather Duke and Heather would be dating, and nobody would bother them. Martha would be totally confident in her body and maybe she’d be dating Ram, long as he treated her right. And Kurt wouldn’t be such a mindless bastard. The teachers would actually  _ care _ .

And me. I hate to say it, I hate to picture it, but I can’t help it.

I’d be dating JD. He wouldn’t have killed anybody (but seriously, isn’t it so fucked I have to  _ actually _ say that), we’d just be happy.

Then after. Martha would have gone to art college. Kurt and Ram would probably have a football scholarship. Heather Chandler would have become the youngest CEO of some mega-rich company and eloped with her secretary or something. Heather Duke would have opened a bakery like I saw she wanted to on that career’s survey we had to do one year. Heather would be working with children or something, maybe she’d be a primary school teacher.

Maybe I’d be married to JD. Maybe in this fantasy land that would make me happy.

Would it make me happy now? I’ve been trying to answer that question for an hour now, clutching my pillow to my chest and staring at the ceiling. 

When I was in senior year, when I first met JD, it was attraction combined with intrigue and something  _ new _ . There was no boy in the whole of Westerburg High that didn’t fall into two groups; jocks, or freaky geeks/nerds/pedo’s. JD didn’t fit into any of those groups. Plus, he totally beat the shit out of Kurt and Ram, which was a bonus. But I know it now, what I’d missed watching that fight. I’d been too busy focusing on everything else about JD that I’d missed the look in his eyes.

The  _ passion _ . The crazed fire blazing as he punched Kurt into the crowd of people.

 

_ I would fight for you if you would fight for me... _

 

Then the encounter at 7-11. He was so  _ vulnerable _ yet so strong, and there was still that aura of mysteriousness about him. He was clearly intrigued by me as well, maybe even attracted, and since I was in the Heather’s I was way more confident in myself, confident enough to consider that option. Plus, being in the Heather’s all day had messed with my head. He’d been like a breath of fresh air, I instantly felt at  _ home _ with him, like I was in a place that was safe, a place where  _ I _ would even feel safe.

 

_ Go on and freeze your brain… _

 

And then the party happened. And I fell apart. I’d been kicked out of the Heather’s, given thirty hours to live with no idea how to spend them. I’d just ruined the life of my best friend and I knew she’d never forgive me. I was alone, just walking around drunk. And then I saw JD’s window. You have to understand I thought my life was over. I had no friends. I had no clique. On monday morning, I would be ridiculed and shunned by all. Two things went through my mind as I stared up at his window. First thing was that as my life was now over, I had no reason to try and stay in control and be perfect. I could be carefree. And second, if I actually did this, if JD actually did like me, then he would stick with me right? I wouldn’t be so alone. 

But I did _also_ want to have sex with him.

 

_ It’s cause you’re beautiful… _

_ Make this whole town disappear… _

_ Love this dead girl walking… _

 

And then we did the unspeakable. We killed Heather. And I just went  _ numb _ . I mean, who could I talk to now but JD, living with the constant fear that I would just accidentally let slip that I’d just  _ murdered _ someone. Plus, it wasn’t his fault, and now he was in love with me. And being honest with myself, I was in love with him. I’d already cut Martha out of my life with that note, so it was easy just to be with JD and not care what they thought of me. After the incident with Kurt, Ram and Heather Duke, JD was by my side, so defensive, and I was just a naive girl smitten with someone who seemed to care for me more than anyone in the world.

I  _ trusted _ him more than I’d ever trusted anyone

 

_ Our love is God… _

_ You’re not alone… _

_ The new world needed room for me and you… _

_ I’d trade my life for yours… _

 

But after  _ we _ killed Kurt and Ram, I was still numb. And this time was different from Heather, this time the gun was in my hands and I shot the bullet, yes, I did miss him, but I still pulled the trigger anyway with all intents to hit the target. And through all of the pain and guilt, JD was there with his arms around my shoulder and his kisses on my lips, which I realise now was numbing me even more. But I depended upon him, and I still thought he was ok. I knew he was in love with me (though I never stopped knowing that), and I still thought I could help him. I thought this was a one-time thing, that he’d done this for me, but I didn’t need anyone to be punished anymore, I could cope with Heather, so as long as I told JD that, this would be over. 

I thought that above  _ everybody _ else, even himself, he would listen to me.

 

_ I could be good with you… _

_ Let us be seventeen… _

_ Your love’s too good to lose… _

_ Hold me tighter… _

_ You’re the one I choose… _

 

I woke up eventually. I saw Heather on the verge of death, somebody I’d grown to care for, and it snapped me back to reality. Because in a way,  _ I’d _ almost caused her death. If I’d never killed Heather Chandler, Duke would never have taken the power, and never been able to hurt Heather like that. Besides, I truly believe that Heather Chandler actually  _ liked _ Heather, and I know that she wouldn’t have been so rash and hurtful in her mocking. Heather valued loyalty. And if I hadn’t killed Kurt and Ram, then Heather wouldn’t have thought that she was unlovable and worthless to the world how she saw it. 

I actually  _ saw _ what JD and I were doing, for the first time.

 

_ You will not be satisfied until I overdose… _

_ I am finally awake… _

_ You’re still using me to justify the things you do… _

_ This is the end… _

_ So goodbye, because now I say no… _

 

Except nobody knows how hard I cried alone in my room after I left JD. Nobody saw the pain in my heart. He wasn’t at school, and then Martha did her stupid idiot jump and I had something to distract me, but then his voice was in my head and I just wanted to break. My parents were trying to understand me but how could they? I thought I’d just escaped, and then they showed up to remind me I would never be done with JD, who then broke into my home just as I’d broken into him, only it wasn’t a gesture of love, it was one of hate.

I  _ finally _ saw the crazy.

 

_ They’re keeping you away from me… _

_ We were meant to be one… _

_ We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars… _

_ You carved open my heart, can’t just leave it to bleed… _

 

The hanging was to scare him. There were three reasons why. The first was delaying, after all, he’d just told me he’d just built a fucking  _ bomb _ and was ready to blow up the school. I didn’t know how to stop him, but I did know how to buy time. The second reason was my stupid naivety. I still thought he loved me. I thought he would stop, mourn me, and then I could come down and hold his broken pieces together because I still loved him, I would have crossed every line for him. 

I thought it was  _ working _ .

 

_ Please don’t leave me alone… _

_ You were all I could trust… _

_ I can’t do this alone… _

 

And then I  _ finally _ snapped out of my stupid childish daze. JD loved me, yes he did. I know that. But loving me wouldn’t stop him, because he’d managed to convince himself that all of this was for me.

And because he loved me, and believed he was doing this for me, there was  _ no _ stopping him

_ Still I will if I must… _

I remember the look in his eyes as he clutched that bomb to his chest. I remember knowing that the anger was gone, all that was left was love. He  _ was _ going to trade his life for me. And I could see myself, at a grave with no body, with my heart breaking into so many pieces nobody would ever be able to put it back together.

_ Hope you miss me, wish you’d kiss me… _

But that didn’t happen, did it?

For a second, for a split second, a thought flashed through my heart. 

‘I wish he’d died’

But I don’t. I don’t in any way. It would be so so much easier if I did wouldn’t it? 

I turn with eyes spilling over with tears to see the packet of cigarettes on my desk.

It would all have been easier if I hadn’t spoken to him. If I hadn’t let him back into my life. Because he  _ is _ like a drug. When I’m with him, all the bullshit in my life just vanishes. I’m free from all my burdens, high on a happiness that disappears as soon as he walks away. And I’m addicted, I can’t spend too long away from him before I’m just  _ done _ . 

The lid just slides off, no resistance, and the tubes fall onto the floor and into my hands.

I wish I had the strength to resist him. I thought I did, I thought I could after I left him, but as soon as he crawled through my window all the ghosts came flying back and I just fell apart. And this whole year, I thought it was perfect, but now I see that I wasn’t me. Because I got addicted, and now I can’t be  _ me _ without him.

They were slid over the counter to me, free of charge. I’d gone looking for JD, but he wasn’t there, and the guy said I looked like I needed them.

Martha was right. “I don’t know what he did to you but he’ll just hurt you again Veronica.” She told me. And I didn’t listen. I let go of any fleeting resistance I had left and went crawling right back to the world I thought I’d left behind. 

Another addiction I thought I was over. Another coping method, losing myself in the fumes.

Heather was right. “He’s a walking bomb ready to explode and take us all out with him.” She said. And the bomb has exploded, leaving me as rubble strewn throughout the life I made for myself, looking up desperately at JD waiting for him to put me back together. But even if he could, I would never be the same as I once was. He would make me into the person I was in high school, ready to obey his command, blind with love.

I roll the cigarette across my palm. So easy to just light it up and forget all my problems.

Am I in love? I don’t know, I don’t know what love feels like. I don’t know if I was in love or just numb to my true feelings. I feel like that might have been me ever since JD returned. Ever since I read the note after the party. Ever since I visited Heather Duke in the hospital. Ever since my night’s have been spent in the toxic presence of the dead demon queen.

Maybe this is just my version of suicide. Because depending on how it’s done and how determined you are, suicide is easy. In a fucked-up way. Smoking is just a slow death.

Because these fumes are like a blanket, saving me from a world made of thorns. 

Thorns that pierce my skin with the cold voice of Heather Chandler. Telling me it’s all my fault. That I’m not strong enough to take the blame.

The smoke wraps around me, promising me that there’s always someone out there to take the blame off of my shoulders.

Thorns that stab my heart with the memories of a life I had with JD, a life that drowned me in cruelty and depression with only a few bursts of happiness.

Smoke that seeps into my skin and flood me with the knowledge that happiness is an illusion, that this is the only way to be happy.

Thorns that break through my bones screaming at me that my parents will never understand me. That Martha will never stop pitying me. That Heather will never stop failing to save me. That Heather Duke will die with me. That Heather Chandler will never stop torturing me.

That JD will never trust me. Never love me.

What can a cigarette do to that?

Because it’s true. 

It’s like he once told me; fight pain with more pain.

But happiness doesn’t come when everything’s numb.

And I am not a child anymore.

I’ve grown harder skin. My heart has gone colder. 

I’m used to failure.

Sadness.

Heartache.

Betrayal.

The cigarette never reaches my lips, it falls onto my bedroom carpet and lies there, calling out to me, but this room already has enough ghosts and I’ve learnt to ignore them all.

I am stronger than I was. 

Yes, she’ll never stop pitying me. But her life is made of fantasies and I’m happy to be one. 

Yes, she’ll never stop failing to save me. But I can stop depending on her to do it.

Yes, she might die with me. But I can make sure that I’ve somehow made the life she’ll have lived at least slightly better.

Yes, she’ll never stop torturing me. But there’s nothing I can do to stop her.

Yes, he’ll never love me in the way I want him to. 

 

But I can at least make sure I know the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though, go get distracted on discord, enjoy the sunshine, revise for exams because those are important kids, listen to Hadestown because it's amazing, read Killing Stalking and cry until you die of dehydration and eat ice cream.
> 
> Look how inspiring and positive I'm being!
> 
> "My mothers would be so proud"
> 
> Except make that my mother and father.
> 
> I think I might be sleep deprived...
> 
> Wait wait I forgot something! So you may notice that Veronica say's this about Martha:
> 
> 'she wouldn’t even have MaDD'
> 
> Yes, I gave Martha Maladaptive Daydreaming. Why?
> 
> Because, and this is the main reason, I have MaDD. And I want to write as somebody who has it and that why I can project all my emotions onto them. Sorry Martha.
> 
> But also because it fit's. Slightly.
> 
> Anyway, go research it if you want to know more because I can't be asked to put a definition here.
> 
> And on that note, I'm gonna go eat ice-cream. See ya next time!


	14. Well Who Made Her Captain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets are just not meant to be heard by certain people...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo bitcheeeeees. NEW CHAPTER TIME!
> 
> (because i was ill and missed school today so i had to do someeeeeething or else i would have died of boredom)
> 
> Enjoy some heartbreak!

**Heather McNamara**

 

Unlike when Veronica asked me to come along on my next visit to see Heather, I’m not surprised when Martha asks if she can come.

Martha is just  _ nice _ . Almost too nice.

She feels sorry for everyone.

And, occasionally, I envy her, but most days I don’t. Because she is burdened by the amount she cares, and being mean is easier than being nice, mean takes you far after all -

God I’m starting to sound like Heather Chandler.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t died. Or not even that, if she’d died but had managed to convert me into a clone of her.

I know for certain my life would not be the same as it is now. I wouldn’t be driving with unbrushed hair, sitting next to Martha Dunstock on the way to visit my friend who tried to kill herself.

No, instead everything would be  _ plastic _ . My life would be fake. Like it once was.

_ If I say the wrong thing, or wear the wrong outfit, they’ll throw me right over the side... _

Lips covered with gloss until they practically glow, pulled into a false smile until it hurts, like my mouth is being yanked by the strings of an unknown puppet master.

_ And the Captain is pointing... _

Hair brushed within an inch of its life, sleek and perfect, hair everybody envies. And nobody sees me in-between classes, or sometimes even  _ in _ classes, running to the bathroom and yanking on my blonde locks, sometimes even pulling out stray bits of frizz.

_ The people smell desperate, we’ll sink any minute… _

And nobody cared. Nobody saw. Instead, it seemed like me being there, pulling a smile for them and not for me, it truly appeared like I was making  _ them _ happy. And so I kept doing it. But nobody ever saw me, and being truly me never did anything for anybody.

_ Storms are approaching, there’s nowhere to hide… _

Nobody is perfect. And nobody is  _ ever _ satisfied. The people at the bottom want to be noticed, want to be loved, and they fight every day for it. The people in the middle are jostled constantly, they are on the edge of the lifeboat and somebody is always falling straight into the raging black ocean.

_ The tiniest lifeboat, with people I know… _

And for the few who manage to claw their way up to the top, the few that manage to find a pedestal and claim it as their own, it’s a never-ending struggle. Because a star can only fall.

_ Still, the weakest must go… _

 

**Martha**

 

Oh god, what am I supposed to do?

_ ‘You should just pat her on the arm, or some shit’ _ Lori tells me. I tell her to shut up, but Shelly and Aysa only echo her.

Sharing your head with fantasy characters is a struggle sometimes.

_ ‘Just leave her be’ _ Tara says before going back to sleep.

I take her advice, because Heather is silently crying but also furiously driving forward and when she gets like this it’s just best to leave her alone or she bites your head off.

I stare out of the window, but I’m furiously tapping my fingers to stop myself slipping into a daydream. Ever since Heather found about my, erm,  _ condition _ , she’s become an expert at noticing when I’m trying to distract myself. I’m hoping thats she realises now, but I guess she’s lost in thought.

I don’t even know why I’m here. I guess that I’m too forgiving, and I already forgave Heather and Veronica practically the moment after they hurt me.

_ ‘Definitely too forgiving’ _ Eliza chimes in.

Yes, it really is a struggle.

Instead of wandering off inside my own head, I try to plan out what I’m going to say to Heather Duke, but my brain is in that place now where it won’t stop spiralling down and down about my MaDD.

‘Please don’t kill yourself Heather, because high school is over and being a queen doesn’t have to matter.’

Maybe I’m just too nice because otherwise I’ll just be angry. Some girls are just meant to be alone, after all. And clearly one of those girls is me. I’m hopeless at anything sociable, because I either snap or shrink backwards until I’m  _ literally _ living out the life of somebody else, even if it is only a daydream.

‘It may still feel like Heather Chandler has her icy-cold fingers wrapped around your heart, but she’s dead and buried and she can’t hurt you anymore. Not in reality in any case.’

I just believed for so long that dreams should never have to end, and now look where it got me? Talking to myself because of an undiagnosed condition that literally half of the scientific world doesn’t even believe exists, so therefore I can;t be treated for anything except just being a bit of a fuckup.

‘I know you probably hate me, I’m just Martha Dumptruck after all, but I’m here for you, even if you don’t want me to be.’

And look what I did? I built a dream that I can live in, that I  _ do _ live in, and now I can never wake up. Do I even want to wake up? At least like this I’m never alone, and how I could I ever do that to the five characters I created?

“Hey Martha, we’re here.”

 

**Heather Duke**

 

I’m so so glad she came back. I wasn’t ever sure she would, I’ve been lying on this bed for five hours without speaking to anyone, not even my nurse has come in.

I was all alone, and now two people are in my room.

I was surprised to see Martha Dunstock in tow, though to be honest the Pope come and visit me next and I wouldn’t be that shocked given my nice array of visitors.

The fat girl smiles, and I’m not going to smile back, because it’s quite hard to smile at someone you bullied for most of their life. And then they committed suicide because you bullied them. So smiling doesn’t seem like the best thing to do.

Heather isn’t smiling, and I’m worried because what the heck happened and is she ok, but then her lips purse and I realise I’m just pathetic and stupid and proabbly very high on painkillers so they shouldn’t trust a thing I say.

“Hey Heather!” Martha plops herself down on my bed with a thud, smiling way too much.

Mac looks at me and her eyes are saying ‘I know this is awkward, but give her a chance and try not to be a bitch’

I obey.

Martha and I make polite chit chat, the best kind of talk that can happen when you’re in a hospital for attempting suicide, but I’m not paying attention because I’m too busy looking at Heather.

“You’re looking so well, what meds have they got you on?” She says. Heather is wearing a black miniskirt and it hikes up her thighs and makes me wonder how she got so confident because she isn’t wearing yellow and yesterday I painted my nails green because I couldn’t do them red.

“Is your nurse nice? Mine was so sweet, I actually got her number we met for coffee once.” Heather has her lips pursed and they’re shining slightly with lip gloss. All I want to do is kiss them.

“I hope you get out soon, have they given you a date?” Heather swishes her blonde curls over her shoulder and I think about running my hands through them and holding her in my arms, something that I’ll never be able to do.

“What about when Veronica came? Has she been your only other visitor?” 

I blink, registering what Martha just said.

“Oh, yeah, only you guys, her and my parents. I don’t know where she ran off after though, maybe she was going to see JD. Obviously in love again.” I snort, but then I see that Martha has shot up off my bed and Heather’s mouth is open wide.

She snaps it closed and looks at me with a glare that practically snaps my heart in two.

Martha suddenly sprints out of the door, just like Veronica did, and Heather calls after her, but Dunstock’s step fade as she pelts down the corridor.

Mac looks back at me. And her eyes are so so cold. If looks could kill, this hospital bed would become my deathbed. BUt she doesn’t realise my heart is already broken.

“How very Heather. I thought you’d changed, but obviously you still can’t keep a secret for shit. Veronica would only have told you that if she was determined not to crumble, but now the world will know. I hope you’re proud. 

God, what’s your damage Duke?”

She stalks out of the door, and I sit up and scream “Heather! Please, come back! Please.”

I’m sobbing, because the look on her face when she turned away, I’ve only seen that look once before.

“I didn’t mean to spill Veronica’s shit! I’m sorry!”

 

_ Aw, look, Heather’s going to whine whine all night! _

 

“I didn’t want to hurt her! Or Martha! I don’t want to hurt anybody anymore! Especially you, especially you!”

 

_ Why not kill yourself? _

 

“I don’t want to be that girl anymore!”

 

_ Your ass is off the team! _

 

“Please, come back Heather, please don’t leave me alone again!”

 

_ Go on and bitch and moan! _

 

“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t watch you be happy and live your life without me being there by your side!”

 

_ You don’t deserve the dream! _

 

“Please, come back! I don’t, I don’t just want to imagine a happy land anymore! I don’t just want to lie here and pray to every god to take me away and put me by your side!”

 

_ You’re gonna die alone! _

 

“I, I want to be by your side because, because -” My voice breaks, and tears are running even faster down my cheeks.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

 

_ Die alone! _

_ Die alone! _

_ Die alone! _

 

_ Die alone… _

 

**Heather McNamara**

 

The hospital wall falls away under my fingers. 

Everything. Just. Stops.

Heather, Heather…

 

Heather loves me?

 

* * *

 

**Veronica**

 

Sitting in my room will not help with my new quest to find the truth.

Veronica Sawyer, truthseeker.

Ok, I need to stop. I think I’m going insane.

I swing my legs off my bed and head downstairs. I am totally craving a slushie, and there’s also a chance JD might be at 7-11. My parents are both standing at the kitchen side, I wave goodbye and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” I stop in shock, it’s most certainly  _ not _ like my mother to concern herself with my day-to-day activities.

“Erm, out. I’m grabbing a slushie.”

I think that was the wrong thing to say, because now they’re both in front of the door looking  _ extremely  _ pissed.

“Veronica, Martha came by earlier. She was very concerned about your  _ safety _ .” My dad emphasises safety, almost spitting out his words, and what the fuck has Martha done?

What’s going on?

“We don’t want you going anywhere near a boy who thinks firearms are a joke.”

Hold up.

I’m sorry, what?

“Oh my god mum, what the hell are you on about?”

“Oh, don’t give me that attitude missy. I’ve heard about what this Jason Dean did on his first day, pulling a gun on two defenceless boys, never mind that it was empty! And now you’re seeing him!”

Everything just s l o w s, because now my parents think I’m  _ dating _ JD?!

“Mum, I don’t know what Martha has told you, but I’m not dating JD! I spoke to him, like, twice when he was here. I didn’t even know he was back in town?”

My parents stare at me. My dad grips my arm and my mother looks like she’s almost about to cry.

“Upstairs Veronica. You’ve never been a good liar. You’re grounded.”

My mum sounds like her heart is breaking when says her final piece.

 

“Oh Veronica, could that boy explain the burned-out cigarettes on your floor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My arm still hurts from that blood-pressure cuff test thing that was so weird ughhh...
> 
> Whoops sorry got distracted anyway I promise that I might one day write a happy chapter.
> 
> Maybe.
> 
> Just, like, keep that in mind.
> 
> (Next chapter isn't even worse what no I have no idea what you're talking about)


	15. The Demon Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wasted years, the wasted youth, the pretty lies, the ugly truth...
> 
> And the day has come where I have died -
> 
> Only to find I've come alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is like short sorry but feel blessed this is earlier than I would normally update.
> 
> And just so you know, the chapters after this, up until the end, are the ones I'm most excited to write, so this story is going to get more fun for me, worse for everyone in it and even more painful for everyone reading it...
> 
> Enjoy!

**Veronica**

 

They put a lock on my bedroom door.

They. Put. A. Lock. On. My. Bedroom. Door!

I don’t even know how they did it, but what’s done is done and now I’m locked in. They locked the window as well, but I think they did that weeks ago. 

It’s funny, how I have less freedom now, as an adult, than I did when I was younger and still in fucking school. Enought freedom to literally help in the murder fo three people, climb through a boys window and have sex with him, and then hang myself and stop said boy from blowing up the entire school.

A voice in the back of my head asks if I miss it, and I know who that voice sounds like. Cold dread prickles my skin because I know I’m not sleeping tonight, the ugly truth disguised by the pretty lies is arriving.

“Did you miss me baby?”

Heather is leaning on my door, dressed in the same outfit she wore to the party that fucked up everything (or did everything fuck up the party?), the slim red dress. A small part of me that isn’t frozen wonders how the afterlife works and how she managed to get that dress, and then I fucking remeber she’s just a cursed figment of my imagination.

I pull my pillow over my face and ignore her.

“So the folks finally decided to lock you up like a rat in a cage?” She laughs, and then suddenly she’s leaning over me. “You should just do what I did. Blackmail ‘em”

“You blackmailed your parents?” I vowed that if she came back I would ignore her, but she always knows how to make me talk and I guess I broke that promise too. Whatever, she’s sparked my curiosity anyway.

And maybe, just maybe, this visit might be a nice one.

“Oh yeah, it’s such bullshit. My dad fucked this woman one time, guess he found her on the street, and they did it while my mum was out but I was home. I was twelve by the way, but still, and they fucking did it right on the kitchen table!” She smirks, and I wonder if she was this twisted even in childhood.

“But anyway, so I told my dad the next day that I’d seen him do it, and he was like you’ve got no proof. Well then I said that..”

I zone out. This whole scene is just too weird for me to even begin to try and listen to her. Heather Chandler, the dead demon queen, is sitting at the foot of my bed, clutching a blue fluffy cushion to her chest, talking with wide animated eyes and making stupid hand gestures.

This is either a nightmare, or I have somehow travelled through a portal into an alternate dimension.

“Ugh, Veronica, are you even listening to me?” Heather snaps her fingers in front of my face and sighs. “Well anyway. I just, I mean, adolescence  _ didn’t _ make sense,  little loss of innocence.” She rests her head on my feet and clicks her knuckles.

Did I mention that I fucking hate it when people do that?

“The ugliness of being a fool, ain’t youth meant to be beautiful Veronica?” 

“Why are you here?”

“To understand you. You could have it all again, you know. Don’t you wish you’d been a prom queen, fighting for the title, instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible? Heather is locked away too, but she’s probably never getting out. Take it  _ all _ back, take  _ my  _ throne.”

“No thanks. I don’t wanna make a big mistake anymore.”

“Suit yourself. But are you _ seriously  _ content with what you have now? You’re completely alone. Heather and Martha aren’t  _ honoured _ that you’re their friend anymore by the way.”

I throw the pillow at her. To my disappointment, it passes straight through her head, and she just falls back on to the ducet laughing her head off. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Just go.”

“There is no way you’re so happy. You’re completely freaking suicidal, and you’re making it worse by going straight back into the arms of JD. Don’t you want back your virginity, so you can do it all? Feel infinity?”

She’s not taking me back into that place. I won’t let her. I know she’s just the form that the darkest parts of my mind have decided to take, but my mind is a real fake and completely against me.

My brain is aware that if it makes me so depressed and suicidal that I do really kill myself, it will die too, right?

“I mean, come on Sawyer, i thought you were meant to be the one with the brains! He’s not beautiful.”

“JD has nothing to do with me any longer Heather. I sunk back into the trap but I’ve pulled myself out of the quicksand and I’m free. I just wanna be an idle teen, stay inside all day, I just want the world to go away. And that includes you.”

“Oooh, so tough. But fine, only before I go, why was he interested in you before?”

I look up at her, and I can clearly see the twisted satisfaction in her eyes when the tears slowly fall down my cheeks.

“Love? Pah, that bullshit doesn’t exist. He used you as a  _ scapegoat _ Veronica, so he could use you to excuse the release of his psychotic desires.”

Something breaks inside of me, like my heart is a frozen lake and Heather just stepped onto it, and now a crack is running across the surface, revealing the cold black water beneath.

He didn’t love me. He just wanted to kill. Maybe he wanted to use me as a reason to lie to himself, to paint over the terrifying truth with hearts and pretty colours. So he wouldn’t have to show anyone, even his own mind, how broken and damaged he truly was.

There is a possibility that something else took over, a different personality that was unleashed when he was holding the poison or the gun or the bomb. But I don’t think so.

“He was a snake charmer, that one. A vulture praying on the weak and strong alike.”

I hate that pert of me that still wants to defend him.

But that section of my heart is covered with smoky clouds of toxic gas, straight from the mouth of hell.

No, no. I’m not thinking like that. I hate that most of my heart still loves him, but that’s the truth, so I may as well admit it and to hell with the consequences.

“Stop dripping poison into my ears Heather.”

She smirks. “You still believe me though. You know what he’s trying to do.”

I know. Of course I know. I’m not an idiot, I can see the truth that’s not only staring me in the face, it’s screaming inside of me too.

“Love can’t save him. That kid won’t be happy unless there’s somebody else’s blood on his hands.”

“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw Veronica, took you long enough!” 

I can’t believe I’m asking the devil for advice, but here we are.

“What does he  _ want _ though.”

“Obviously, he wants to use your hate as almost like a checklist, picking off the people you despise and thereby giving himself a fucked-up excuse so he won't feel guilty. He probably does love you,” She says matter-of-factly, “But it’s bloody toxic.”

I wonder how she knows the brain of a sociopath so well, until I remember that she probably qualifies under that definition.

“You mean Heather Duke?”

“Can’t say that slut doesn’t deserve it, but there are better ways to go.”

“Heather, leave her alone, you’re the reason she’s so damaged.”

Suddenly the girl is standing at the foot of my bed, and I feel another shiver run through me, except this time it’s one of relief because that's what she does when she’s leaving.

“Harsh but probably true. You know, she once got stone drunk and told me that she wished she didn’t kiss the mirror when she was on her own, and then she basically breaks down and is like oh god, I’m gonna die alone! And I just fucking laughed because I mean come one seriously, that’s so pathetic…”

Heather slowly vanishes, like smoke leaving a blazing fire.

Even though this time wasn’t so bad, I still feel the same, the way I always do when she leaves me. 

A fire in my heart was just going out, the fire that JD set, and ashes were slowly scattering. But then she comes and throws a spark onto the ruins, and so the fire beings all over again.

Every time the mythic bitch blesses me with another visit, the flames grow stronger and the blaze grows brighter.

Oh god, what do I do? I can’t leave my room, but I have to stop him…

Oh god JD, what are you going to do now?

Whose life are you taking next? What family will you rip apart? How will you destroy a million possible futures this time?

 

Who is going to die for our love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've done like three monologue chapters in a row what is wrong with me? Don't worry though, the next chapter brings tea, tragedy and karma.
> 
> And I doubt anybody recognised it, but basically almost every line in what Heather said what taken from a song called Teen Idle, by Marina. Possibly because I listened to it on repeat for two hours whilst writing this, but also because it's suuuuuch a good song seriously like go listen..
> 
> BUT IT IS ALSO A PERFECT SUMMARY OF HEATHERS! NOT KIDDING! And have you guys heard of Szin, the youtuber who does like literally the best animatics. Her Hamilton ones where AMAZING, but mainly she did this song with an animatic that summarised all of Heathers and it's so good and I'v seen it before obviously but I watched it earlier this evening and the way she drew JD made me cry and I was like I need write something to do with this song and here we are!
> 
> Next chapter will be coming...
> 
> Soon.
> 
> Maybe.


	16. They'll Die Because We Said They Must

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karma. It's a funny word.
> 
> Those two boys, their karma is coming. For JD and Veronica, they'll bring it upon each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy guys. So, TW, this chapter has a murder, just a 'lil warning but to be honest what even IS a Heather's fic without a little murder. Anyway, this chapter brings back our lovely resident killer JD, and I'm really tired and fuck is it hot over here in England, so eat ice cream and literally just sit there with an ice pack pressed to your head...
> 
> Sorry, I got distracted. Enjoy the chapter!

**JD**

I’m trying Ronnie. I promise you I’m trying…

But my love for you isn’t enough to keep out the starving, raging anger that’s bubbling inside my heart and threatening to burst all over again.

No, my love isn’t enough, because this time somebody _directly_ threatened you. Not just simple wordplay torture like Heather, not just bullying jocks like Kurt and Ram. Instead, these two nameless bastards _dared_ to hurt somebody so perfect. A girl they didn’t even know, but a girl that clearly had no way to let out her pains and as such numbed them in alcohol until she forgot her own name.

I’m trying my love, but I can’t stop it…

I keep thinking of all the times we were together, but it’s like falling down a cliff face; trying to catch the branches as I tumble down into the depths of the ocean, but the branches just slip through my fingers.

I fall and I fall and I fall and I fall and I fall…

And I can’t stop it, so I need to find you Ronnie, I need to leave something to tell you that it wasn’t me that did this, that it was some dark part of me that leaks with shadows and is clouding my heart, but I can’t find you and I’m falling…

_They can’t get away with this._

It’s three in the morning. I found myself walking the street and I already knew what will happen, and I could stop it. At this point I could have stopped it, I knew our love was strong enough to stop _me_ , but I’m a coward and a failure. 

_They can’t get away with this._

Oh god Ronnie, I saw them walking down the street and I just froze. They were staggering, clearly drunk and clueless, and oh why weren’t you with me Ronnie? Why weren’t you there to turn me around, to tear me down? If you had been there…

But you’d never take a walk with me, would you?

_They won’t get away with this._

It was so _easy_ , fucking hell it was like stealing candy from a baby. Child’s play. Anyone could have done it. I just put on a smile and asked them if they needed any help getting home, by that point I was gone, hell, it was like I was just a spectator to myself and the hell that was about to go down.

_They’re not going to get away with this._

One of the boys spat out an address, but it didn’t matter, I was taking them to the park whether they lived on the other end of town or in fucking Texas. Some woman asked if we were ok; I told her I knew one of the lad’s parents and had found them drunk, was just walking them home.

That woman was drunk too, and holding a roll of pot, she wouldn’t remember a thing. She wasn’t a concern.

_They’re going to get karma for this_

By the time they realised I had taken them very obviously in the wrong direction, it was too late. One of the boys mumbled something, I think it was “Shit,” and that was the last thing he would ever say. A corpse can’t speak. Bullets buried themselves in his head and found their way into the other one’s chest.

_They didn’t get away with this._

And now I’m standing here, with two bloody bodies at my feet, and oh sweet jesus what have I done?

What do I do?

I’ll tell you what I did Ronnie, and I’m a coward, a pathetic coward, but I just tumbled back into the ocean. My brain went into autopilot.

Shit shit, what do I write, what would Veronica do, where’s a pen, this has got to be good enough to fool the cops…

 

* * *

 

**Veronica**

“We bring you breaking news, as tragedy has struck the small town of Westerburg when last night two high-school students were found dead in a local park -”

“The boys were members of the school football team, and -”

“The horrific loss of Jason Bell and Jackson Sanders has brought back terrible memories to the small town, where a few years ago Kurt Kelley and Ram Sweeney took their own lives to hide their gay relationship -”

“Police are calling this a suicide, stating that a note was found at the scene of the crime, and the two guns had only the boys fingerprints on them -”

“The contents of the note have not been disclosed yet to the general public, and our hearts go out to the two families that have been scarred by this tragic loss of life.”

 

I flit through every news channel, but it’s the same story. Two boys, two guns, and a suicide note.

Sound fucking familiar?

Well I guess we were right Heather, except it wasn’t Duke he was after, instead it was two defenceless, innocent teenage boys he didn’t even know.

“That demon spawn crawled up from hell just to play God and fuck around with the lives of everyone”

“Mhm-hm,” I vaguely mumble towards the girl sitting with her hands on her chin and elbows on her knees in my dad’s chair. She’s dressed like she just got out of bed, with a red nightgown, and for the first time there’s a blue stain around her lips, which I suspect is my brain assuring me that yes, JD did this.

My parents are out, I suspect going round to the house of the Sanders, I think my mum and Mrs Sanders are in the same book-club or some shit, I don’t really know and I don’t really give a fuck, the less people around me right now the better.

Of course, Chandler is now leaning on my shoulder, but I guess she’ll never go away.

“Maybe they can come back from the dead too and fuck with me, would you like that?”

“Babe, you know that JD did this right?”

“Of course.” I turn to her, and my heart skips a beat as, just for a moment, two boys are sitting at my table; bleeding and in their underwear, watching me.

But Kurt and Ram don’t have the same staying power as Heather Chandler.

“So what are you going to do about it?” By the time I look away from the table, she’s vanished into thin air, but her voice remains echoing in my ears, and her question lingers in the sour air.

What _am_ I going to do about this?

I remember that once, Martha told me that you should unpack your problems and dissect them to find the solution. She was just talking about passing a test, but I’ll gladly take any advice in this situation.

First, there’s my brute anger. That JD would just brutally take the lives of two boys he didn’t have any ties to, fuck, he’s a serial killer. A psychopath. He’s just become a demon who takes the lives of innocents. 

Then, there’s a serious confusion. Why? Why would he do this? What could they possibly have done to him? He would never have spoken to them, never have met them. They wouldn’t have hurt anyone, like Heather, Kurt and Ram did, and they weren’t getting in the way of what he wanted or who he loved, like Duke might have been doing, at least that’s how it would appear in his warped, twisted version of reality.

Finally, there’s the hate for myself. Wait, that has three parts to it.

I hate that a small part of me would forgive, just a little, if those boys had done something. But what could they have done? Killed someone he cared about? Raped someone he loved? Abducted someone he treasured? I don’t think so. But this small part of my heart, which I suspect is the part of me that loves him (oh who am I kidding that’s not a small part of my heart, it’s the fucking majority), could find a way to forgive him if those boys had done anything.

I detest the part of me that believed him. That trusted him when he told me he had changed. That would have loved him, no, that already loved him and would have given up everything for him, come time. Oh, how could have I believed him?

And then there’s how these murders have made me look at myself. Made me realise that most days I don’t even recognise me, how badly I want that girl I used to know; the girl that was imperfect, but god did she try. That girl was good, but she lied. She was hard on herself, broken, but she couldn’t ask for help. Oh, she was messy, but she tried, she tried so hard to be kind. She was lonely, most of the time. 

And that girl left a legacy, a legacy to that I would give anything to rewrite. And the girl she left behind wishes she could go back. What would I say to her?

I would, I would tell her to be reckless, just enough. I’d tell her you’ll be hurt, but you will learn to toughen up, I would promise her that. I would tell her she’ll be used by a man she does somehow love, her heart would be bruised, and she might get stuck, get scared of the life that’s spreading out infront of her, but I’d tell her to _fight_ , just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes.

Oh, but that girl is long gone.

 

She is gone, but she used to be mine.

 

Maybe I can try, though. I can bring back some of that fire. I can stop trusting him, no matter how painful it is. I can bring justice, I can _stop_ him, before it’s too late.

I’m going to find JD. I’m done with plastic promises. 

I throw open the front door and pull on my blue trench coat that I only brought last year because I decided I wanted to be ironic and torture myself just a little bit more. 

What will I say to him?

Ok, a plan. A prepared speech.

I don’t know how I’ll start, or how it will read, but I know the rough idea.

“Step one, guilt-trip him.” Heather is walking beside me in her own trench coat, except of course it’s blood red, and there’s now a dribble of blue liquid coming from her smirking mouth.

“You have ask him how he could do such a thing, ok but like can I say this is so fucking fun. Anyway. Ask him why he did it, what they ever did to him, and then drop your final bombshell by asking him what he thought your reaction would be. Did he think it would _please_ you? Did you even cross his mind at all whilst he pulled the trigger?”

“Got it.” I mumble as we head towards 7-11. She links her arm with mine, and it might look a tad strange to the few people walking around, but nobody really notices and at this point I don’t care what these people think about me.

“Step two, you must make him wonder if he ever truly meant to do it. Like, confuse him. Did they just get in the way? Would they lead you to somebody else? You can find out if he wanted to get Duke or if he just snapped.”

“Ok.” We start down the road that leads to the petrol station and police cars fly by, sirens wailing, but I think he managed to confuse them enough so that they actually believe the note, whatever it said.

“Third step, your end line. What did you expect to come from this, JD? Do you plan on turning yourself in, on showing some mercy to their families, or will you just let your guilt consume you? Hey look at that TV.” 

We stop and turn to the window of a shop that has gathered a small crowd. A brunette reporter is wearing the typical oh-how-sad face and reading from a sheet of paper.

“Police have not released the exact contents of the note, but we have received word that the two boys were in a homosexual relationship and killed themselves out of shame.” Heather scoffs, but I’m numb because this was obviously what would happen. “This event has shocking similarities to the Kelly/Sweeney case a few years ago, but police say no investigation is required. A memorial -” I turn away and keep walking.

“How unoriginal. Anyway, after a brilliant speech, you just turn and strut away. He’ll run after you, and if he doesn’t turn and stare him down until he speaks. Good luck!” She vanishes, and I’m left staring at figure sitting on the wall.

 

He has a blue slurpee, and he looks right at me, and I guess this is finally my karma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY JD KILLED SOME PEOPLE! What will Veronica say to him? Oooooooooh *tension*
> 
> *well not really, more a failed attempt at tension*
> 
> Anyway, the usual, a couple references, no idea when the next chapter is coming, and hope you all don't die from this fucking heatwave that has stopped me from moving like the ENTIRE day.
> 
> Because I totally do that all the time...
> 
> Whatever, I'm lazy, see you guys next time!


	17. What The Fuck Have You Done?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe there's a God above,  
> But all I've ever learned from love  
> Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya...
> 
> And it's not a cry that you hear at night,  
> It's not somebody who's seen the light,
> 
> It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well ello there guys did you miss me? 
> 
> Probably not, because I've left this fic untouched for like, a month, and I'm very sorry but I couldn't be bothered to go buy a depresso, and that, dearie, is what it takes to write Heather's fanfiction.
> 
> I was also binging two straight seasons of Once Upon A Time, so there's that.
> 
> Anyway, it's depressing, but what's new?

**Veronica**

JD walks over, but I hold up my hands to stop him. I don’t want to be close to him, to see the look on his face, to see his eyes, because then he’ll seem human and when he’s standing three feet away he looks a lot more like a freak in a black trench coat holding a slurpee, and I’d much prefer it this way, thank you. 

“Veronica, I -”

“Don’t. Don’t speak. Don’t move.” Already, I can feel myself beginning to fall apart, and I try to think of the evil plan that a dead mythic bitch queen of high school devised for me, but all I feel is pain and anger and all I see is blue liquid dripping from red lips.

“You, you, I, I’m not even going to ask why JD. I should, but I’m not going to, because if I never find out then this is just the doing of a crazy fucked-up beast and it needs to stay that way because I can’t forgive you again.” I can see the hurt in his face and a tear actually falls from his eyes, but I ignore it because the pain I feel right now is more than enough for the both of us.

“I can’t forgive you because I can’t get close to you again; I can’t risk getting hurt. Because the pain I’m feeling right now JD, it just makes me remember how I felt watching you clutch a bomb to your chest. So I’m putting my defences up, because I don’t wanna fall in love again. This pain’s more than love is worth, and it’s not fair!” I’m standing right in front of him now, and we’re both crying. 

“You, you,” I can’t get the words out, I’m burning with rage and sorrow and why? Why did I have to fall in love with him? Why did it all have to go wrong?

Why me?

“You need to stay the fuck away from me and my friends you psychopath, because they didn’t deserve to die at your hands.” I can see that he’s sobbing, and I can hear my own shattered breathing, but I don’t stop even though this time I’m crushing my heart myself.

“Remember the first time we met JD, because it’s going to be the last time you see that look in my eyes, shit, it will be the last fucking time you see my eyes. Remember the time you taught me how to freeze my brain, because that's the last time you’ll teach me anything. Remember when I came looking to you to save me and make this whole fuckup of a town disappear, because it’s the last time we will ever connect!” I’m screaming now, right into his face, and I don’t give a flying fuck about how insane I appear to anybody walking by. I don’t care about anything anymore.

“Remember this moment JD, because this is the final goodbye.” 

And with my heart shattered on the floor, I turn to leave. 

 

**JD**

“VERONICA!” I scream, and it shocks her enough that she turns around to stare at me, and the look in her eyes breaks me; I’m the one who caused that look. 

My knees go weak, and I collapse onto the concrete, sobbing, and heartbreak was never this painful, it was never meant to be this painful.

I look up, and I see her, crying freely, and for the first time I don’t just see my darling Veronica painted in all the bright, brilliant colours of the world. I see the dark clouds and stormy horizons, the storm that rains glass and pain. I see Heather Chandler, blue liquid dripping from her lips, with her hand on my true love’s shoulder, and I realise that she’s never been free. 

“They, they hurt you, and they deserved to pay.” My voice breaks, and I can’t hold up the weight of my own head anymore or the guilt it carries. But then hands lift up my chin and she looks at me, but all I see is how this must look to somebody else; a man in a black trench coat on his knees sobbing, and a girl crouched with his chin in her hands.

For the first time in this whole hell of a conversation, some of her anger disappears.

“They, hurt me?”

 

**Veronica**

He’s lying. Or he’s finally lost it completely and actually hallucinated an entire scenario between myself, Jason Bell and Jackson Sanders. 

But I don’t feel like he’s lying. If he was lying, why would I remember their faces lit by a streetlamp, or remember being pressed against a damp brick wall by what seemed like the strongest force in the world to my frail, drunken body. 

“JD, how the fuck did they hurt me? I never spoke to them, at all. Ever. Unless I was eighteen months old  and we attended the same fucking mummy and me dance class.”

“The, the party.” He looks straight through me, and I hate it, I hate myself, but I know he’s not lying. 

“You, the note I gave you, it was a lie, I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you already had been hurt. I, I was out, and I, I found you, and those two, and they, they, you were drunk and practically unconscious and they…”

His head drops to the floor at the same time my legs give way. I can hear screams in my ears, and they’re  _ my _ screams, and there’s shadows and leering grins and pathetic begs for help and then arms carrying me away and then…

And then there’s nothing at all. 

“They raped me?” My voice is so small, and I feel like I’m slipping away from everything. JD looks up, shocked, and grabs me by the shoulders, pulling my shaking, sobbing frame in towards him, but I’m too numb to care or feel  _ anything _ .

“No, god no baby, I got you out before they could, I would never let that happen to you, my god Veronica. It, it was just, attempted, fuck, I don’t know Veronica, I don’t know shit…”

I pull away, and manage to stand; it takes every ounce of control I posses not to dive straight back into his arms and forget the world, forget the pain.

“Just please, stay, stay away from me, I, I can’t take the poison pill again.”

 

* * *

 

**JD**

I don’t know what stopped me from running after the tortured, broken girl that walked home shaking. Maybe it was my love, but I doubt I can feel love anymore, not after my broken heart is currently lying on the sidewalk. 

Maybe it was just because she told me not to, and I don’t have anything left to do but listen to Veronica.

All I can think, is what the fuck do I do now?

I pass by my old house but don’t stop, I can almost see the ghost of the girl I once knew climbing back out of the window, almost hear her calling my name, begging me to stop, but the past is a wasteland and nobody lives there.

At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself, even though all I have now are memories. 

“JD! You bastard, wait for me!” Her brown hair is curled and she wears so much blue, and the look in her eyes is so  _ weak _ , it’s nothing like the strong beautiful woman that now runs around trampling on my soul.

“Go away,” I mumble, “You’re not real.” But the bitch grabbed me by the arm anyway and leans her head on my shoulder. 

“Oh, what’s your damage JD?” She giggles, and then it hits me, why I’m finding absolutely nothing about the Veronica that’s clinging onto me attractive.

She’s so  _ young _ . Naive. Depending on me to save her. She might have just been kicked out of the Heather’s, but hey! At least her freak boyfriend hasn’t forced her to shoot anyone!

Maybe some sick, fucked-up part of me loved this girl, but I certainly don’t.

“Oh come on, tell me what’s the matter!” She pouts. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone, is it?”

“You can’t tell anyone, you’re a fucking hallucination because I, my dear, am not as fine as I seem!” I scream, and she jumps back in shock, and a really stupid part of me thinks thank god nobody else is in the back alley right now because they’d probably call the police.

“That’s not very fucking nice.” She mutters, and even though she’s a hallucination I still feel vaguely sorry that I hurt her. 

“You know, I may not be real, but that girl that left you is, and since she isn’t listening to you or asking what your damage is then I’d have thought you’d appreciate at least something.”

I slump against the wall, confused. “Aren’t you just a hallucination brought on by grief that looks like a past version of that girl?”

She sits next to me. “Well, if you think about it, we really aren’t that alike, her and I. Really, I’m more like oh, I don’t know, her child or something.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“You’re pleasant.” She stands up and shakes off her skirt, well, as best as you can shake off a skirt that’s so plastic it looks like it’s been welded to your very body. “Sure, I’ll fuck off, but first, don’t you love her?”

I look up at the stupid fucking hallucination and sightly give in to my inevitable madness by responding. “Of course I love her, if I didn’t do you really think I’d be talking to myself in an alley with a broken heart?”

“Fair enough,” She shrugs. “And if she were here, I would imagine she’d tell you to keep your anger in check and think about the situation. Sure, she saw the news, but after you told her how you saved her, why would she want you to stay away?”

“Possibly because she’s not a naive, dipshit hallucination, ever think of that one?”

“Ok, again, fair, but all I mean is; who would have been talking to her about you?”

I stop tapping my fingers on the brick wall and for a moment I feel like the old JD again. The one with all the fucked-up, crazy thoughts. 

The little naive dipshit hallucination was right. Who would have been talking to her about me? Sure, Martha would warn her to stay away, and Heather -”

“Oh, shit!” I jump to my feet and almost shake the imaginary young Veronica by the shoulders, then I remember that she’s not real. 

“Oh, shit, what?” She asks. 

“Duke! Heather fucking Duke!”

 

* * *

 

**Heather Duke**

Two weeks…

That’s all I have left, lying on this bed in a tiny-ass ward, unable to do anything or see anyone, at least, see anyone of my own will. 

Sure, I can move around, but the TV has three channels; news, nature and sports, and nobody comes to visit. 

Well, technically my parents  _ do _ , but I don’t count them as visits, more like they’re just filling time until their prayers to all of heaven and hell are answered.

_ ‘Dear God, why is our daughter an insane, nutjob, fucking mental patient who tried to kill herself just so she could be like her tormentor?’ _

Yep, got the feeling that their prayers to the Almighty are phrased exactly like that. 

I also don’t count the bullshit therapist who drops in every morning to check I haven’t bit my wrists open or taken a sledgehammer to my room as a  _ visitor _ , because she’s paid to do it and she also pisses me off.

Like this morning, when she asked me what my fucking  _ goals _ were. Gee lady, I don’t know, maybe, erm, establish I’m not insane, get back Heather McNamara, try to stay alive and oh also I guess I should probably try to stop seeing my dead not-so-benevolent dictator everywhere I go, even though she’d dead. Can you recommend a doctor that sells pills to stop you seeing dead people?

I try to avoid moving around too much, because looking out of my window  _ really _ emphasises the fact that I’m diagnosed as a crazy suicidal headcase (the window has bars) that nobody wants to come see unless it’s their direct offspring or they’re being paid to do it. 

The door swings open, and I don’t turn to look because it’s probably just another fucker here to double check that, yes, the bitch therapist was indeed correct and patient 243 hasn’t taken to her room with a sledgehammer.

I wonder if they design mental hospitals to actually make you go insane? It must be a great business enterprise.

When the person who walked in doesn’t speak, I turn, just to make sure it’s not a ghost that can now open doors -

And I bite my fist to stop a scream.

Jason fucking Dean is standing in my hospital room.

I move around to the other side of the bed (because at least there’s a small barrier between me and the person who may not be diagnosed as crazy, but hey, who needs a diagnosis?) and look around desperately for anything that might be used to defend myself.

I would be freaked out a bit less if his face actually  _ moved _ .

Ok, after thoroughly examining my pitiful surroundings, my weapon choices are; a lamp, a remote control and my mums glasses case.

Fuck I’m screwed.

And he still hasn’t moved, well ok then, I’m gonna go for the lamp -

JD tips his head back and lets out the most disturbing laugh I’ve ever heard. 

“Oh Heather, I knew you were pathetic, but seriously? You were planning to attack me,  _ me _ , with a lamp?” He snorts, and moves his coat aside so that I can see a glimmer of silver at his side.

Shit he has a knife I. Am. Going. To. Die.

“Now that, that is something.” He drops down onto my bed, and I clutch the fucking lamp even tighter.

“Hey, get off my bed!”

“Your bed?” He snorts again. “Pretty sure this is hospital property Duke. Anyone can sit on it.”

“Well, this is my room so that makes it my bed - wait, why am I arguing about beds with you? You’re a psychopath who just barged into my hospital room with a knife!”

He smiles, and yeah, I might be lesbian (or possibly bi, I haven’t really considered anything at this stage), but damn is he kinda cute.

“You know Heather, you are a  _ lot _ more fun when you’re high on painkillers.”

“What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pull the lead out of the lamp and hold it in front of me. “Also, get off my motherfucking bed!”

He raises his hands, sniggers, and obliges. “I’m off the bed. Happy now, you nutjob?”

“Perfectly.” I sit on the bed and pull my knees up to my chest, leaning against the railings that act as my headboard. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

He ignores me, and walks to the window, looking out at the bleak car park. “I can’t believe there’s actually bars on your window. Thought that was just in shitty movies.”

“How did you get in here?” I hold the lamp out towards him again.

“It’s a hospital, and you’re allowed a certain amount of visitors. I told the lady at the desk I was Veronica’s boyfriend and she had a message for you, the lady called your parents and they cleared it, and -”

“Alright, alright!” I put the lamp down beside me but don’t take my eyes off of the patch of his coat that conceals the knife. “But what do you want?”

Suddenly, everything about him changes. The cocky smirk, becomes a snarl, the arrogant stance becomes threatening, and his hands curl into fists at his side.

“I want to know what lies you told Veronica, snake.”

 

* * *

 

**JD**

Looking at her really does fill me with rage.

Trembling in a hospital gown, clutching a fucking  _ lamp _ , I wonder what Heather Chandler would have made of her successor?

“Look, JD, please, it was an accident! I, I said that I picked you up on the side of the road, and I didn’t know she didn’t know, because, well, I thought you guys were in love so I assumed you would have explained why you were getting  _ out _ of  _ my _ car when you saw her, I don’t know why you didn’t. And then I told Heather that I thought she loved you again, and Martha was there, and jesus christ I didn’t mean anything of it, I’m sorry, please…”

I let out a hollow laugh and sit on the edge of her bed before my knees collapse. I keep on laughing, and then the tears come, and then I’m just plain sobbing.

“Fucking hell, I’ve lost her. I lost her so long ago and I didn’t even realise it. How could somebody so perfect love somebody so broken?”

 

**Heather Duke**

Ok, so maybe he isn’t totally crazy. After all, most psycho’s don’t sob at the end of your bed about lost loves.

And I don’t think you should be able to  _ relate _ to psychopaths, unless I am one of course.

He stops crying, and stands, running his hand through his hair. Then he just turns and opens the door.

“Woah, you can’t just leave! A visitor who may or may not be insane is better than going insane because of lack of social contact, and trust me, I’m more damaged than you think, and I know about hopeless love.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. I sigh, and push the lamp over, patting the bed beside me.

“For fucks sake JD, sit down. I’m not the one with a knife.”

“Well there was maybe a fifty percent chance I wasn’t going to use it on you.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel loads better. Now sit down!” I tell him, so he does, and the uncomfortable look on his face would surely have satisfied the bitch Heather Duke and made the weak Heather Duke cry, but it doesn’t affect the high Heather Duke.

I actually did tell my therapist I thought I had mild schizophrenia, but she told me that I was fooling myself and my feelings. Never brought that one up again. 

“Is this what you’re really like?” He asks.

“Erm, specifically?”

“I mean, is this how you actually behave under all the plastic faces and bright green jackets?” 

I smirk at him. “And what do you think my true personality is? Because right now I think I’m just high.”

He snorts (for the third time, and oh great now I’m counting). “Well, you might be high, but I prefer you like that. I mean, wait that’s fucked up,” I raise an eyebrow at him, and he tries to backtrack. “No, well, you’re just, I don’t know, a lot more  _ likeable _ like this. Kinda funny, with the lamp and all, and you just generally seem normal. Much better than you were when you picked me up at the side of the road anyway.”

I smile, because he’s right. I prefer myself, like this, in this room, than anybody I’ve ever been, except maybe when I was a baby because you should never hate a baby, look where it got Maleficent after all.

Maybe I should ask the nurse if I can take these drugs with me once I get out, just so I can stay like this, in this stupid place where I don’t care how stupid I look or how weird my thoughts are.

Also, on drugs, you don’t worry about putting makeup on, and that would save a lot of time in the mornings. 

“What do you mean,” JD looks down to the floor, then back up at me, “When you say that you know about hopeless love?”

“Oh, well, erm, I just, like -”

“You love Heather.”

“Can psychopaths read minds now?” We both burst out laughing, and damn it feels so good to just  _ laugh _ . I haven’t done that in a while. Therapy sessions don’t generally come with comedy. 

“Did Veronica tell you?” I doubt that she did, but I don’t know what goes on in her Romeo & Juliet love story that she and JD seem to have going on. Maybe I’m just really obvious.

“No, I guessed. Just the way you looked at her, when Chandler wasn’t watching. Plus, Mac’s nice, and out of the two Heather’s beside you I would assume she’s the one.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m absolutely shit at concealing my feelings towards both of them. I just wanted to  _ be _ Chandler, and I just wanted Mac to love me like I loved her. Now look where it got me.”

“Drugged up in a psych ward?”

“Oh har har,” But he’s right, again. 

 

“Being in the Heather’s, it meant you were  _ perfect _ , and I never was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, that's the chapter summary because I was listening to the song and thought it sounded cool - wait why the fuck did that autocorrect into capitals? 
> 
> Anyway, whilst I do rarely update within the same month, I do actually, like, write some of the chapter through the many weeks that this website doesn't spam you with an email, and since I am going on holiday and then camping and then going back to school, I might be gone a while...
> 
> (Eh, I'm always gone a while)
> 
> Well, my Netflix account is calling, so I'm going to go grab some doritoes and cry over that fact that Rumplestiltskin and Belle broke up. See ya!


	18. I've Experienced Everything You're Going Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you think everything had already gone as wrong as it could?
> 
> Oh god, get ready...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, this can't be happening? This can't ACTUALLY be happening? Am I ACTUALLY updating, like, a WEEK after the last chapter! 
> 
> Yes, I am. Because I need something to do.
> 
> Also, christ look I now have a chapter amount set! Three more to go peeps!
> 
> Enjoy...

**Veronica**

Right now, I need three things:

A drink, a friend and a cigarette. Preferably in that order, because then the friend can take the drink out of my hand and stop me smoking. 

Of course, locked away in my room, I have nothing but a taunting blonde and my own messy thoughts. And thoughts don’t make for good conversation. They just tell you over and over that  _ you love a murderer _ and  _ you were almost raped but a psychopath saved you _ and  _ everyone has been lying to you about everything _ . 

Demons queens aren’t much good for talking either. They just make you want to shoot up a school before turning the final bullet on yourself.

I need somebody  _ real _ , to cheer me up and talk to me. I need to see Martha and Heather, even though I couldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to see me.

Sneaking around, lying, they hurt people, and I’ve become an expert at both. Only God knows what JD has done to me, and hell, only God can judge me. 

But when I get downstairs, in a frumpy grey hoodie and leggings, my parents are having a furious, yet muted, row at the front door. 

“Come on Catherine! This has to stop!  _ She _ has to stop!” My father is wringing his hands and frowning at my mother. Then, when they realise I’m present, they both stand up straighter, and they’re not smiling.

Oh shit. 

They know I snuck out.

“Veronica!” My mum rushes forwards with tears in her eyes. “How could you do this? Sneaking out _ again _ ! And while we’re not home because we’re going to visit a grieving mother who just lost her child! We told her you were ill, and there you are parading around town! Have you no shame?”

My father walks forwards as well and takes my hands. But not gently, oh no, he grips them like a vice to stop me leaving, stop me  _ escaping _ . “Three people saw you Veronica! You and that  _ stupid _ boy fighting!  _ Three _ ! How does this make us look?” 

Mum elbows him. “Leonard! That’s not important!” She turns back to look at me, and in her eyes I see an expression that I’ve only seen once before; when JD had just dropped off ‘my’ copy of Moby Dick. 

Dad looks furious, Mum looks nervous, and I know what they’re about to say. 

“Young lady,” My dad thunders. “You are not to leave this house, ever! Until we can book you an appointment with that doctor in Cleveland! We should have done this months ago, but there’s no time like the present! You are  _ damaged _ Veronica!”

“Oh, what kind of doctor dad?  _ Psychiatric _ ?” I bite back as I pull myself free from his grip and head into the safety of the stairs. “I am  _ eighteen _ ! You can’t keep me locked up in a cage like I’m your fucking pet dog!”

“Enough Veronica!” My mum shouts, and the way her voice breaks as she says my name makes me hesitate, just a little. “I don’t care if you’re eighteen, my decision is final! I am your  _ mother _ , and I know what’s best for you! You will stay under house arrest until we can book you an appointment! No arguments!” She slutches my dad’s arm, and I think he’s about to say something else, but I’m already gone.

No, not my mum, not my dad. Your mum and dad don’t lock you up in your own house to fix  _ their _ appearance. They don’t force you to go to therapy when there’s nothing wrong with you. 

They should  _ listen _ , not shout until I have to scream to be heard. But my voice is gone and I don’t have the energy to scream. I just want to be  _ held _ , to be comforted. But Catherine and Leonard Sawyer, they aren’t going to do that.

Maybe nobody can. Maybe I’m beyond help. After all, he did just call me damaged. And who could fix me after all I’ve done?

Well, maybe one person could. But he won’t. I won’t let him. 

 

I’ll just sit here and find another way to numb the pain that jagged edges of a broken heart leave all over my body. 

 

* * *

 

**Heather McNamara**

I’ve changed so much, this past year. I’ve  _ grown _ . I’m confident, and I know it. For once I’m not ashamed. I’m not afraid to get thrown into the ocean, because swimming through the coral reef is a different kind of beauty to making it to shore.

But now, I feel like I’m back where I started. I’m losing control, and I can’t stop it. I can feel my stability slipping through my fingers, like grains of sand from a cracked hourglass.

My time is up. I’m falling back in. I’m losing everyone; I’ve lost Veronica to JD, I’ve lost Heather to herself, I’ve lost Martha and that’s my fault, I didn’t keep her in the light, instead I ignored her when she wanted my company and friendship, but now she’s retreating further and further inside. We haven’t even spoken since the hospital.

Sometimes, whenever I think like this, I see my life, my  _ new _ life, the one I love, as a glowing pile of embers.

The fire is out, and the ashes are going to blow away at the first gust of wind. 

So, I sit here. At the coffee shop. It’s hard to believe that about three months ago me and Martha would be sitting here joking, and Veronica would sneak off shift for a few minutes just to come say hi and give us free biscuits because she hated her manager. 

Now, I sit alone.

Or at least, I _ did _ , until today. Because Martha is tearing down the road with her hair flying and chest heaving. “Oh thank god.” She slams into the chair at the other side of my table. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here, because I’m an idiot and I’m not even mad at you I’m mad at Veronica because she was keeping secrets but yet I stopped talking to you for some reason and -”

“Woah, woah, calm down Martha.” She’s panting, hard. But she isn’t dressed for a run, fuck, is she in  _ pajamas _ ? “What’s going on? Also, I forgive you it’s fine it was my fault.” I look around, half expecting to see Veronica running along the path behind. 

“Where’s Ronnie?” I ask, and she picks up my coffee cup and downs the rest of it, trying to get her breath back. 

“That’s it Heather, that’s the problem.” She relaxes slightly in her seat, btu her hands are still clenched. “We haven’t just sat down in ages, and I went to her house to see her because, you know, she’ grounded or something. But here mum wouldn’t even let me  _ in _ ! She said that Veronica’s going to stay with a therapist or something in Cleveland next week and for now she’s under house arrest!” Martha runs her hand through her mousy curls. “Oh Heather, what’s going on!”

“I, wait, what!” It took me a minute to process what she was saying, but “Shit no that can’t be true! House arrest! Therapy!” Her parents must be insane. I shake my head slowly. “I mean, I know they thought about doing this before, but still, why would they…” My voice trails off when I see the figure coming down the road.

Head bowed, fists clenched, in a black trench coat.

“But I think,” I nod my head at JD, “I think he might be part of the reason.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Martha stop!” I pull her by the arm but she’s not listening to me, she’s barrelling down the road towards JD. He looks up, bemused, but his eyes are red-rimmed and JD never struck me as one to cry. 

“Erm, greetings and salutations, Martha. Heather.” He nods at us, but Martha’s suddenly gripping my arm like a vice, and when she gets like this and something’s happening to me or Veronica, whoever’s on the receiving end, well, they’re fucked. 

And JD’s currently being stared down.

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Veronica?” Martha hisses through gritted teeth, letting go of my shoulder to grab his. “Because now  _ we _ can’t even see her! And -” I kick Martha in the back of the foot before she can go telling JD that Veronica’s being shipped off to a therapist, but to be honest I don’t think it would even matter. His eyes are already hardening. 

“What do you mean, can’t see her?” He pulls free of Martha and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Great, that’s just great…” JD moves to push past us both, but I grab his arm again. “Why is that so ‘great’ JD?” I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He looks down at the floor, and I get the sense he’s vaguely embarrassed. “It’s, look, I just wanted to ask either of you to pass on a message, since there’s no way I’m going to be able to see her and I -”

“Stop right there Jason Dean.” Martha folds her arms across her chest and moves to stand between myself and the boy. “Maybe you love her, but not all dreams are worth having, and I am  _ not _ letting you near my best friend again. Come on Heather.” She drags me away, but JD makes a desperate grab for my arm. 

He misses, obviously, because Martha can move very fast and very ferociously when she wants to. 

“Heather, wait, please!” His voice is heavy with depression and regret, and for some stupid reason it makes me stop. 

“I just want to tell her I’m sorry! That’s all I want to say, and then if she wants me to go I’ll go. I’ll do whatever she wants me to do as long as I can just say sorry.” 

I pull out of Martha’s grip. “Go on without me, I’ll come to your house later yeah?” I mutter when she looks back confused. She nods, and - reluctantly - leaves me alone with JD on the sidewalk.

Ok Heather, be strong. This is for Ronnie.

“So JD, you’ll do whatever she wants.” I square up to him, even though he’s about three inches taller than me. “What, pray tell, would you do if she wants to to disappear off the face of the Earth. Forever.” I add hastily. He cocks his head at me.

“Then, Heather, I’d disappear of the face of the Earth.” He flashes a sad grin at me. “Forever.” 

“You’re insane. Why do you think I’d ever tell Veronica what you have to say? I’d never hurt her like that. Because, JD, men are kind until they aren’t, and we both know that Veronica won’t want you gone. So how long would your kindness last?”

“To the ends of time.” He looks down at the floor, then back up at me. “Please Heather.” The desperation in his voice throws me back to the hospital, back to Heather.

I know he’s telling the truth, about doing whatever she says. And some part of me promises that he won’t hurt her, but I don’t know whether to believe it.

It’s the part of me that told me Heather Chandler wasn’t ever my friend. Told me that her death was a good thing. Told me that I didn’t need a clique or a colour to belong.

For these past days, it’s been telling me that what I feel for Heather is ok.

“JD,” I sigh, “Please don’t put this on me now. I have my own heartache to deal with right now, ok?” I walk away, praying he won’t say anything else, though what could he say to -

“It’s ok to love the monster Heather.” he says.

I freeze.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean JD?” I spin round, suddenly nervous.

“I went to see Heather. Duke.” He clarifies, and looks at me, saying something with his eyes that I am  _ not _ going to believe.

“Oh, I had no idea that you were friends. What a fun pairing.” Sarcasm is the weapon of the wounded, and I wield it lethally.

“We’re not,” He shrugs. “Or at least, we weren’t. But I guess she was in a pretty vulnerable place when I came in, or maybe she just likes me.” Everything about his posture seems to scream ‘who wouldn’t?’ - yeah, he’s a regular charmer this guy.

“Anyway, point is, she told me she was, well -”

“That she was in love with me?” I wish my jumper had some pockets that I could shove my hands into, because I’m suddenly freezing. “I know, I heard her say it when I was leaving. I don’t even know if she knows I know.”

“She doesn’t. She thinks it’s unrequited.” He cocks his head at me again. “Is it unrequited?” 

I shiver, and wrap my arms around my body. Wordlessly, he shrugs off his trench coat and drapes it round my shoulders. “Thanks.” I mumble. “But being nice isn’t gonna make me like you more. Or trust you.” He laughs, but it’s hollow. 

It’s the laugh of somebody who’s only laughing for appearances, because really there’s no joy left in you. I’d know because that’s what my laugh sounds like these days.

I run my hand through my hair. “I, I don’t know. I never even thought about it. I wish I  _ didn’t _ have to suddenly spend my days and nights running through my feelings, asking myself, oh, do I love the girl that wanted me to kill myself? Am I even lesbian? What am I? What the fuck is going on with my life?” We both laugh then, and everything seems at least slightly happier than it was a minute ago.

“Well,” He says somewhat bashfully, “Loving Veronica did cause me to almost blow up your school, but there are some perks to be totally, absolutely insane.” 

“Wait, blow up our school?” I put my hands out in front of me. “No, I don’t even want to know. Besides, even if I  _ love _ Heather, which seems extreme, it’s not like I, well I…” My voice wavers. 

I don’t love her, do I?

I think about all our memories, the good and the bad. The silly little jokes we had when we were younger and still free. The glances behind Heather’s back to let each other know that we were still there. A shared smile, and occasional laugh when we were alone. That one time Heather couldn’t come into school (for some reason I’ll never know because Heather was  _ never _ ill) so we skipped lessons to go and try out cigarettes behind the big oak tree at the park, and then promptly both had coughing fits.

And then, like always, I see the crazed obsession that Heather had in her eyes when she watched Heather rip her claws into another victim. The way she took Heather’s place instantly when she died, without even seeming to mourn her. The horrible taunting voice that came straight from the grave of a suicidal former queen, telling me that I was worthless and I should kill myself.

But I can hear her, I haven’t stopped hearing her, the way she sounded when I stood outside her room. 

 

_ ““I, I want to be by your side because, because - because I’m in love with you” _

 

“I know that if I’m in love with her then it’ll be painful. It’ll be a struggle. I’ll fight her and she’ll fight me. But we’ll be happy, most of the time - no, all of the time. And, maybe that’s ok.” JD smirks at me, and I realise I just said that out loud.

“Shit, sorry.” I mutter, staring firmly down at my shoes. He laughs again, and it’s again happier. 

“Don’t sweat it Heather, but erm, Veronica?”

“Right yeah.” I look back up at him, and I can see in his face that he’s trying to look like he’s not collapsing. 

“I’m just so sick of everything not going right.” He suddenly shouts. I step back, shocked. “Sorry,” he grips his hair in his fist. “It’s just, I thought I was doing the right thing and I did the worst thing, and now she’s under house arrest.”

“Well, a bit more than house arrest.” I realise I’m still wearing his coat and swing it off my shoulders, offering it out to him. “Her parents are sending her away to a therapist in Cleveland next week.” 

He looks up from the coat, wild-eyed. I hear him start to breathe faster, and something in his eyes makes me stupidly, but worryingly, afraid. “What?” His voice has gone husky. “They, they can’t do that, why would they ever do that?”

“Calm down,” I say, because he looks ready to charge into their house with a gun. “It’ll be ok. Look, I don’t know how, but I’ll talk to Ronnie, and I’ll talk to her parents.”

“Get her out of there Heather.” I stifle a gasp, because his voice has gone so, so cold. He starts to back away from me. “Get her out. Please.” And then he’s gone.

But I can’t help wondering, as I head for my car, if he was begging for Veronica, or for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So erm after this lil story is finished I think I did already mention I have another one in the works...
> 
> Well now I have three so basically fuck the remainder of any life I had. 
> 
> Hopefully, HOPEFULLY, I'll have two going at the same time because they're really very different and then I'll do the third as soon as one of those ends, but yeah. More to come.
> 
> *sarcastic celebrations commence*


	19. I Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i  
> will  
> always  
> love  
> you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm really really emotional let me warn you, but reading through my plot and realising we're so close to the end - oh wow I actually got pretty upset, this fic has, in my opinion, got insanely huge, and I love that I gave them a happy ending because - you're not gonna believe this - THIS IS A HAPPY CHAPTER I PROMISE! 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Heather Duke**

_ I can’t stay here. _

Westerburg has too many ghosts. I need to stop hearing Heather Chandler whenever I zone out of reality. I need to stop seeing red.

So I’ll leave. I’ll go wherever I want to go and wear whatever colour I want. I’ll get a job as a waitress in a diner and I’ll take a bit of money just enough to buy a small flat. Then I can be  _ free _ .

I realise that for me it’s an unrealistic goal, but a girl can dream, right?

_ I can’t stay here one second longer. _

I don’t want to see my parents, because then it’s not like I’m running from the ghosts, it’s like I’m running from them. And I’m not. They’ve been what they thought were good parents, and they didn’t deserve me as a daughter. I know they say your parents make you, but I think I was always going to be like this.

The part of me thats still green does blame them, a little. If they hadn't constantly praised me, even when I did wrong, because they were too afraid to punish me, then maybe things would be different. I wouldn’t have been sucked into Heather Chandler’s vacuum - no, I wouldn’t have let myself fall in. 

So I’ll leave them a note. A final kiss goodbye from their daughter.

_ If I stay here one second longer, then I might just die alone myself. _

They gave me money, lots of money, and a bank card on the advice of my therapist. ‘To help create an illusion of independence’, I heard her saying. 

The old fool, thinking that we really have made  _ progress. _

_  I’m finally leaving. I’ve finally running. I should have done it long ago, but better late than never, right? _

I really should just go. But I can’t do that, not yet. There’s one final person I need to leave behind.

_ Heather. _

To leave her behind, I need to go back. Back to when I first saw her, in a park outside of town. When I first moved to Westerburg. I’ll see her ghost, one last time, and though it’ll never be enough, I’ll be able to move on, at least.

_ I hope. _

 

* * *

 

**Heather McNamara**

I never thought I would ever say this, but Jason Dean, of all people, was right. 

_ It’s ok to love the monster, Heather. _

So thats what I’m doing. I’m loving the monster. I don’t care what Heather’s done to me - another thing I never thought I’d say. I don’t care about the bullying, I don’t care about all the years of slavery and unprovoked cruelty. I just remember when she found the stash of antidepressants in my bag and then the way she smiled to let me know that she was on my side.

Love’s enough for me.

But the dopey grin slides straight off my face when I see Mrs Duke crying on one of the chairs and Mr Duke stoney-faced holding some sheet of paper.

“What, what’s happened?” My voice rises in a sudden burst of panic. “Is Heather ok?”

Mrs Duke breaks into a fresh wave of tears. “Oh Heather. Oh dear, oh my baby -” She wraps me in a hug, but I’m still frozen in panic. I gently pull away. “Please, Mrs Duke, what’s going on?”

“It’s Heather.” Her father hands me over the crumpled slip of paper, covered in Heather’s familiar slanted writing. “She’s run away.”

 

* * *

 

_ Dear mum and dad, _

 

_ I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say to you to apologise, and all that I’ve put you through this entire year. But I really am sorry, and I really do hope that someday I can come back and see you. _

_ I just need to get away - and please don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not leaving forever, I’m just escaping this place for a time. I know you moved here with the best intentions for me, but it didn’t work, and that is not your fault. _

_ I’ve done so many things that I’m not proud of, and the ghost of all my failures haunt me, and oh god I hate it. I hate seeing everybody around town and thinking about all I did to them. _

_ So I am so so sorry. But I can’t live here anymore. I want a fresh start, and so I’m going to get one. _

_ Heather, if you see this, can you tell JD that he was right and that I hope it works out with Veronica. Tell her that I’m so so sorry and thank her for keeping my secret.  _

_ And, know that I love you Heather. Always have, always will. Thank you for being my friend. _

 

* * *

 

“Oh Heather, why is the world still so dark?” Her mother sobs. “Where’s my baby gone?”

“I, I,” I back away, still clutching the letter, in complete and total shock. No, she can’t have gone, she can’t have left, not like this.

Please Heather, please don’t go. Please don’t leave me all alone.

_ I can’t do this alone. _

_ I can’t face the demons alone. _

 

_ I can’t be the last one left… _

 

* * *

 

** Heather Duke **

I can still remember every detail of that day. By coincidence, I was the only one in the park wearing a green summer dress, because I didn’t know the Westerburg rule. Don’t stick out unless you want to end up torn apart by the claws of Heather Chandler.

But though it only took me two minutes talking to the other two girls on the swings to learn apparently everything about Red and Yellow, as they were known, Heather McNamara surprised me. I’d watched as a young girl skipped in wearing a yellow striped dress, in contrast to the white or blue of everyone there, and Chandler instantly whirled round to make her leave crying. 

But Mac saw that I was new, whispered something in Chandler’s ear and then  _ smiled _ at me.

The moment I saw her dimples, I wanted to be her friend.

But then I forgot that, when Heather Chandler marched over; blonde curls shining in the sun, red dress swirling round her knees, and so I thought ‘ _ That is going to be me. I’m going to have everyone look at me the way they look at her.’ _

Of course, life never turns out the way you expected it to. 

And so this is the place where green joined the team.

 

* * *

 

**Heather McNamara**

I can’t be too late. I can’t be.

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I broke the speed limit for this girl, she better still be here.

And apparently in my panic I like to quote Chandler.

She’ll be at the park, I know she will. That’s her kind of memorial, it’s the place where she joined the Heather’s after all. And what else does she have to remember of Westerburg?

Nothing…

And that’s all my fault.

Racing down the street with my hands furiously shoving my hair out of my face, I can still see that summer afternoon. Noticing the new girl in the green dress, standing out from everyone as she sat on the swing; not swinging, just watching.

I remember whispering in Chandler’s ear that we should check her out. And then I smiled at her, and she started to smile back.

But like everybody else, her eyes glazed over as soon as she gazed upon Heather Chandler.

And so we were born. The Heathers. Of course, it took Heather time to prove herself to her leader, an incident I still feel guilty about to this day even though it wasn’t my fault, but that was when we started. 

Do I feel guilty about starting it all?

Oh, how it’s tormented me every day.

If I hadn’t done that, if I hadn’t pointed her out to Heather C in a way that made her appear  _ interesting _ , not just something to mock and ridicule because she didn’t know the golden rule: Never stand out. And so because I did that, I made her into what she is today.

Sure, she would have been bullied. But bullying was better than being one of us. All of those people wouldn’t have been hurt, because Heather would never have learned from the feet of the master and then made her own way. Because we each  _ did _ have our own way.

I would be sympathetic, and nice, and friendly, and you’d want to get to know me. You’d think;  _ ‘Oh, she isn’t so bad. Maybe we could be friends. I like her more than the others. She’s trustworthy.’ _ And then, depending on what Chandler wanted, I’d either glean your secrets or I’d betray you, leading you straight into the mouth of the devil. 

Heather would do scare you. She’d use the secrets I gleaned and then torment you with them but never quite telling you _ how _ she knew them in the first place. And then you’d be scared for yourself and scared for everyone else so you’d start to cut yourself away. I’m honestly surprised only Martha attempted suicide from our bullying.

And then there was, of course, Heather Chandler. She used words, just little ones, to slowly wear you down. Because using words to bully is a little like dropping a glass, she used to tell us. You can clean up the pieces, but you can never put the glass back together again. 

She did that to both of us, but she did it to Heather the most.

So yeah, I’m still guilt-ridden. If I hadn’t used her as an escape option, a way for Chandlers comments to affect one person not two, you know,  _ sharing the pain and all that shit _ , then she wouldn’t be sitting there, on the swings, silently crying. 

 

**Heather Duke**

Oh no no no no no please say I’m dreaming. 

_ Please, Heather, don’t make this harder than it has to be. _

She’s in a yellow tank top and leggings, and the way she walks towards me, I can almost see her younger self as her mirror image, falling behind Heather Chandler. But Heather doesn’t shy away like she used to, her stride matches Chandlers, and I can’t help but smile at that.

Nice job, Mac.

 

**Heather McNamara**

She’s crying silently as she stares at me, her legs dangling from the swing set.

She’s crying, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to make this better. To make  _ her _ better. Back to how she was before. A bitch, yes, but strong. You’d have to be strong to be a Heather. 

“Heather.” I kneel and cup her face in my hands, but she doesn’t bring her eyes to meet mine. 

 

**Heather Duke**

Why are you here Heather? Why the fuck are you here? To make this harder? To just put me through even  _ more _ pain, the pain of losing you?

I should say all this to her, but I can’t even look her in the eyes.

 

**Heather McNamara**

“Heather, please look at me.” 

She doesn’t, just continues to stare down. I raise her head even higher so that she has no choice, and the look in her eyes breaks my heart.

_ I don’t know what to do. _

I don’t think I could help her, I don’t really help anyone.

Maybe it’s time to help myself. 

 

**Heather Duke**

“Leave me, Heather.” My voice is hollow. “I have to go, don’t you see?”

“You know that you don’t have to do  _ anything  _ Heather.” Her voice, unlike mine, is so strong. So brave. When did she become the brave one?

 

**Heather McNamara**

I always run out of things to say. I start to talk, but then I have to stop, because I don’t know what to say anymore.

So I stop talking.

_ And I don’t think, I just kiss her. _

 

**Heather Duke**

She looks at me, with those beautiful brown eyes that always used to be my safety net.

And then she closes her eyes and presses her lips to mine.

 

**Heather McNamara**

Oh, it’s so wrong, but for once I feel so right. I slide my hands up into her hair and she unfreezes, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling my in closer. 

This isn’t my first kiss, but I know in my heart that it’s the one which matters.

 

**Heather Duke**

_ Why have I never done this before? _

Why did I wait so long only to leave here? Am I  _ that _ fucked-up that I still feel ashamed about how I feel?

I don’t feel ashamed now. All I can think about is kissing her back.

 

**Heather McNamara**

She sighs against my mouth, then pulls away, staring at me with newly-naked eyes. “I’m so sorry Heather,” She strokes my cheek and presses her forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry. It was just easier to hate you than to love you.”

“Hey hey, it’s ok.” I feel a tear drip onto my cheek, but I’m not crying. She is.

“I should fear you, my love, but I’m here to pull you out of the darkness and hold you together for the rest of your life”

 

**Heather Duke**

She wraps her arms around my waist and slowly pulls me to my feet, her forehead slowly leaving mine. “Yes, well, about your parents, and the whole, leaving town thing…”

“Oh, right.” I totally didn’t forget about that over the past few minutes. 

“So, we should, you know…” She offers me her hand, and I close my fingers over her wrist, leaning on her shoulder. We walk slowly, saying nothing, until I realise that we’re not quite alone in this park.

Heather Chandler is sitting at the bottom of the slide, looking the same as she did the last time we both saw her, but in that red dress from all those years ago.

Heather looks at me, as if asking whether I can see her too. 

I open my mouth, ready to tell Heather exactly where she can go, but she just smiles at out entwined hands as a tear falls from her eye.

And then she vanishes, dissolving into thin air.

“That was… unexpected.” Heather murmurs next to me, as rain slowly begins to fall from the cloudy sky. 

We keep walking in silence until we reach the main road, but when I let go of her hand she turns to me questioningly. 

I grin. “Can’t we be that cliche couple in the rain, my dear?”

 

**Heather McNamara**

And when she kisses me again, I know I’ve found my eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet. Very sweet...
> 
> AH WHO AM I KIDDING THEY'RE MY SHIP I LOVE THE HAPPY ENDING AND GODDAMN IT'S SO CLICHE BUT WHO GIVES A FLYING FISHMONGER (censoring myself there) and yes, at least one happy ending, right?
> 
> Oh, I know you all want a Jdonica happily ever after but YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT TILL NEXT TIME
> 
> *insert once upon a time gif of Rumpelstiltskin laughing evilly*


	20. Bow Down To The Will Of A Dead Girl Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teach me how to say goodbye...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit this is it. The final chapter.
> 
> Well, not the _final _chapter, but next week there's just an epilogues because I can't deal with endings and I fucking love this story and HOW IS THERE SO MANY HITS I AM UNDONE seriously I loved writing every single chapter because this thing just got more popular with each so thank you all <3 __
> 
> __Enjoy!_ _

**Veronica**

I can’t get her voice out of my head.

“So you told psycho trench-coat kid to fuck off? Nice job slut, now you’re available as a free fuck without anyone to protect you.”

Fighting back is pointless. You’re just sitting there and no matter what you say, you’ll always be wrong because the cards of life are stacked against you and you will never,  _ ever _ , win, because you fucked it all up. You fucked it up that one time, but life doesn’t care that it only happened once. It doesn’t care that you were manipulated. Life doesn’t give a fuck about the circumstances. So there’s no second chance, and all you’ve got is bad karma. Forever. There’s no fixing the past, and there’s no forgetting and forgiving. You pay for your mistakes with a ruined life. 

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t just kill him. Or Heather, why didn’t you off her? You did it to some boys who didn’t even get a chance to fuck you, it’s not like you’ve got restraint is it Veronica?”

You think you’ve got it fixed, you think that maybe you can be better, but you’re wrong. You read these novels where the main character has a problem, then she fixes it, then she hasn’t actually fixed anything and she just gets stuck over and over even though one entire chapter was meant to be her forgiving herself for whatever it was she did. Kissing and killing and not telling. And then you think it’s trash and cliche because you yourself haven’t made a mistake yet. But just you wait. Life doesn’t like it when people think the problems are over, and so it send yourself to torture you. 

Well, normally it’s just yourself thats being the torturer…

“It’s quite funny, actually, how over these last two years you’ve slowly managed to lose everybody that ever cared about you. JD, Heather Mac, Martha, your parents…”

She’s everywhere. Sitting at the end of my bed with her elbows on her knees. Leaning into the mirror and painting her lips blood red. Clutching a pillow with her blonde hair splayed out on the blankets. She’s infected my room. 

Infected my mind. 

“I mean, McNamara really just wants somebody to jump off the lifeboat and drown with her, and Dumptruck just wants a kindergarten boyfriend. I warned you, I gave you a chance to  _ be _ someone, but you puked up my grace.”

Why her? Why do I have to have  _ her _ as my producer of pain? 

“WHY HEATHER? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME BY MYSELF?”

“Oh sweetie, don’t you get it?” Smirking, twirling a blonde ringlet around a red-tipped finger, the picture of perfection because when I’m weak she’s strong and when she’s strong there are no blue lips. 

“I  _ am _ you, Veronica. I’m your Mr Hyde. Everything you hate, every shameful instinct, everything that you  _ shouldn’t _ be thinking. I’m you, but  _ damaged _ . And don’t you know how the story ends? Hyde is the winner. Evil is the winner. At the end of the day, good will always die because once it gives in, there’s no coming back. And trying to fix yourself will just kill you.”

I can’t beat her with words. I can’t hit her, because my hands pass straight through. You can’t shoot a ghost. 

She sounded different when she was alive. 

_ “If you want to fuck with eagles, you have to learn to fly…” _

I’m not flying, I’m falling. I’ve been falling for a very long time. Falling for JD, then for his lies. Falling for the false promise of a second chance, then falling for a lie of forgiving yourself. 

Maybe it’s time to fly. 

“Thank you, Heather.”

She cocks an eyebrow at me with pursed lips. Then she’s flying into my face, noses touching, I could kiss her if I wanted. “What did you say Sawyer?”

I don’t move. “I said THANK YOU HEATHER! This isn’t some  _ fucked-up fairytale fantasy _ , you don’t get  _ ghosts _ in real life. You just get  _ shame _ and  _ guilt _ and there’s too much to cope you so give the bad things a body, but that body grows out of control and you can’t stop listening.”

I stand up, and so does she. Heather was human, when she was alive - she felt fear but never showed it.

Heather was alive, and now she’s dead. And it is my fault. I’ll never let go of the guilt, but I can ignore it. And I’m tired of pretending I’m not this mess that I am.  

This isn’t Heather. This is me. Scared and alone, still seventeen.

Time to grow up, Veronica Sawyer.

_ Time to fly… _

 

* * *

 

They never tried to stop me from leaving, because I never really tried. I just accepted my fate. But I’m done pretending that my parents know more than me. I’m done being the little girl that looks up to them and does whatever they say because she just wants their praise and hates their punishments. 

So I’m walking out of the door. And even though it squeaks a little, even though the steps down the porch groan under my feet, they don’t hear. Maybe the sounds aren’t as loud as I think they are. After all, everything louder when you’re alone. 

 

* * *

 

 

He never left his old house, not really. Part of him died there, and part of me with it. So maybe he went back to try and find himself.

But I think he went back for me.

I’ll never deserve him. He’s a terrible person who’s done terrible things, but I’m not worthy of this love he somehow still possesses for me. I know what I feel for him will never be as strong, but I don’t think it ever could be.

Somehow he loves me more than it should be possible.

Sometimes I imagine my life without JD. 

But even though it can be better, it can be alive, it’s never what I want.

I love him. And I’m done with being ashamed of it. 

I killed with him. I slept with him. I gave him my soul, and he gave me his. We were one, for a while. We’ll never be that close again, because he was tall and mysterious and controlling, and I was young and naive. Now I’m older and broken. 

He’s older and broken too. Not so mysterious, not so tall. He tries to stop taking control. 

This life, this broken life, wouldn’t be the same with him gone. 

Yes, there are people who love me. My parents. But they won’t ever understand me. They didn’t go through hat I went through, so my struggles will never be real to them. They ever asked to have a broken child, but they got one they couldn’t fix. So they tried, but they gave me away eventually. To life and broken circumstances and ‘a doctor in Cleveland’. And they taught me what not to be. 

They love me as a mother and father should, but they’ll never understand the depth of JD’s love for me. To them, love isn’t anything powerful. It’s just duty and attraction. 

I will never love like that.

Heather McNamara. We were broken together, and thats why she first loved me. But then she picked up the pieces and forgot to show me how, so then she loved me out of regret. Part of her always knew that I was a reason for the loss of everything she’d ever known, but she never asked. We were friends, true ones. But we didn’t know each other. I knew how the Heathers formed because I watched from the sidelines. She knows how JD found me. But I never understood why she joined Heather, and she’ll never understand why I love JD.

She loves me like a dear, true friend, but she doesn’t love me like I’m the only thing that matters. Because I’m  _ not _ the only thing that matters. She loves me, but she loves the rest of the world too. 

I will never love like that. 

Martha. My sister. My childhood. She loved me because she wanted too, and she made me what I am. She questioned me and fought me when I did wrong and loved me through every little fight. She was in every essence my best friend. And she will be, forever. Even if we stop speaking and never see each other again until the next life. But we’ll find each other then, because we’re soulmates. 

JD isn’t my soulmate. I’ll never see him again in another life. Because love isn’t forever, but you can love again and again and again and each time they’ll be somebody different. But Martha is forever. She loves me because we’re connected. 

I will never love anybody else like that.

But I’ll love JD the way he fights pain. Using it to numb the world until I’m ready to face it. With our hands entwined as we stare into the sun. 

With a new kind of beautiful bravery as his bedroom window looms above. 

 

* * *

 

 

His window is still broken. Maybe he’ll appear as another ghost. Maybe he’ll be gone and this was it. 

But in this life, I will never find somebody like him. Maybe some people can lose their true love and get over it, but I will follow him to the ends of the earth. 

I won’t be the reason he runs again. 

 

* * *

 

**JD**

When the sun comes up, I’ll be gone. But one final night in the same town as her, in the same mile radius for the last time, I’d never give that up. 

When the sun sets tomorrow, I’ll be gone. Gone forever. You’ll find me in front of a train, under a bridge. Somewhere that kills me quickly, because I’m done with soul crushing that takes an eternity. 

Veronica Sawyer took my heart and she broke it. She threw the pieces in my face,. But I couldn’t have them back, because they were always hers. So I threw them as she left and they tangled into her hair. They slipped into her back pockets. 

She’ll be what’s left of me when I’m gone.  

Goodbye, my love -

 

* * *

 

**Veronica**

“We don’t get to decide who lives and who dies. Nobody does. Those boys are gone forever. But they'll be remembered JD. People don’t just forget.”

 

**JD**

“Did you forget?”

 

**Veronica**

“Never. The blue lips and gaping holes aren’t going to go. I remember everything differently, because everybody else believes that Heather was a lost soul. They believe that Kurt and Ram were gay and too ashamed to hide their love any longer. We know the truth, so how could I ever forget? If it’s the only way to keep their memories alive. 

 

**JD**

“You’ll never believe that I did it for you.”

 

**Veronica**

“I always did, JD, I always did.

 

**JD**

“Could you have done it for me?”

 

* * *

 

**Veronica**

Could I?

I guess I’ll never know.

“You shouldn’t have killed them.” I repeat, staring deep into his soulful brown eyes. “You should have told me and then I should have reported it to the -”

“To the fucking police?” His voice is harsh, snide, like it was a year ago. I’ve been waiting for it to come out. I need to know if he’s changed. 

“Ronnie, the police don’t fucking do  _ anything _ . They let three murders slip right by because lets face it we weren’t all that clever about hiding the truth. And they didn’t get a chance to touch you, because I bloody  _ saved _ you. What would the police say to that? Oh, thats nice, go home now!”

“It’s not what they would have done, JD, it’s what they mean!” I’ve never screamed at him like this before. Not even when I broke up with him. Because I was scared of what he’d do to me.

But like I said, I’m not scared anymore. 

“Who was it that decided that the police should have a say?” He looks like he doesn’t want to fight me, but this is what we have come to and I need to have this out with him. 

“You can’t take the law into your own hands, no matter what the cause.” I step right into his face. I can feel his breath on my cheeks. “I need to know you understand that, because then I might be able to forgive you. I  _ want _ to forgive you. But the rest of this town, they’ll never be able to do that if they find out.”

“I’m already gone Veronica.” And he’s right, the beautiful eyes that were once the things I loved most in this world are again clouded over, with hate and pain. 

“I’m leaving Veronica. I’ll go right now if thats what you want. If thats the only way to be free.” 

“Free?” My voice is small, and his is broken. What a pair we make.

“For you to be free.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and almost subconsciously I lean my forehead in to meet his. We stand like that for a while, just the two of us alone in the moonlight. 

It’s almost like we’re seventeen again. I wish I could go back in time with this new JD, this new boy who knows when he’s crossed the line and knows when to draw a new one. 

“If I go, then you can be free.”

I pull away. And he knows he said something wrong, but he doesn’t know what.

Nobody  _ ever _ knows what they say wrong, because everyone just  _ assumes _ they know me.

“You think I’ll be free if you’re gone JD? Fucking hell, I was never free! Heather Chandler whispered in my ear every night! I could still see Kurt and Ram running round the pitch whenever I had gym! At least you know the truth. Nobody else does.”

“Do you really still want me here Veronica!” He grabs my arm and hes never, ever touched me like this. With so much  _ anger _ . “I can’t do this Ronnie! I can’t just get my heart torn apart by you over and over! I can’t stay here with you unsure whether you want me or not because I’m  _ done _ !”

Whatever I was going to say catches in my throat when he lets go and leans down, his lips barely brushing mine. 

 

**JD**

If I’m going, I’ll at least kiss her one last time.

I was going to pull away, just a kiss, nothing more. I thought that I’d be the one who made me stay. I always stayed, for her. I always did  _ everything _ for her, I’d cross every line for her. 

And too late I realised she didn’t need me to do that for her. And that she’d never do the same for me. I loved her more than she ever could love me, more than anyone could ever love me.

Anyone but a psychopath.

I’m in too deep. I’ve always been in too deep. I never catch myself and then I fall and as I fall three people die and a bomb is built. And I’m at the bottom trying to convince myself I did it for her.  _ Still _ trying to convince myself. Yeah, I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t thought that, in some fucked up way, I was protecting Veronica. But I know enough now to admit that I was doing it for me, because I’m not normal. And death is an easy option.

Maybe I just don’t have restraint.

But maybe Veronica doesn’t either, because she’s pulling me back to her.

 

**Veronica**

I think this was meant to be goodbye.

_ I don’t want goodbye.  _

I want this. I want his hands in my hair, my arms around his waist, kissing against a backdrop of dusk. 

He’s right, JD’s right a lot more than you’d think. He could never stay here. 

_ But I can’t either _ .

And if I want this, then I guess I know where I’m going. 

It was always meant to be me leaving here. I thought it was to go to college, see the world, carve my own destiny. But I guess I can still do all those things.

I’ll just have JD at my side.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you want to say goodbye with a slip of paper?” JD rests with his elbows on the motorbike that he found in his old house’s garage, watching me as I leave the letter on Heather’s doorstop. We were at Martha’s house only five minutes ago. And before that my parents.

“I’m sure.” I take the helmet from the back seat and slip my arms around his waist, climbing on behind. “I speak better on paper anyway.”

“Did you write them in their own handwriting?”

“Of course I did.”

He speeds down the lane, just as people are waking up and I already see a teacher driving into school. I could never be a teacher, god, who could walk themselves back into high school every day at age thirty? That's my own personal form of hell...

JD slows to a halt when we pass the Westerburg sign on the empty road. He looks back at me - a smile in his eyes that doesn’t reach his face. A smile thats been there since last night.

But he’s still scared, I think. Scared I’ll leave him. 

I push the visor up so he can see my eyes. They’re smiling too. 

“It’s ok. This place doesn’t give happy endings, but maybe we do deserve one after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue might not be for a while, because, like I said, I hate closure. And goodbyes, so I'll procrastinate. But I am starting a new series of oneshots, and the Heather Chandler one is out now, so go check out Red, The Blood Of Angry Men is you want. 
> 
> See you for the last time! _crying ___
> 
> __Mae xx_ _


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